


Buy a slave, save the galaxy!

by MueraRashaye



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MueraRashaye/pseuds/MueraRashaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, when most people impulse shop, they come back with a new datapad, some nice shoes, maybe an antique blaster. Not an eight-year-old junkyard slave.” A smuggler’s Force prompted purchase changes the course of the galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings: The Purchase

**Author's Note:**

> Started as a crossover, turned into an OC what-if story. Have some scenes from the original trilogy floating around, and have it worked out through the end of Phantom Menace, it's just a matter of writing in the details. We'll see how far it gets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So a heads up - Xanfrei (main OC) - is the result of a non-con sexual interaction that takes place off-screen, and when discussed/acknowledged by characters (not too often and getting rarer as time goes on) is brushed off entirely as unimportant/not worth making a big deal of.
> 
> Which is a deplorable attitude, really, but... it's how things fell out. So, just a heads up.

Captain Xanfrei Jyhn muttered under his breath as he walked through Mos Espa. His beloved ship had taken some damage and as a result he needed some parts. Verdi had business here so he had figured why not knock out two birds with one well timed lightning blast and find parts here as well, because efficiency was important.

Efficiency his ass! He hated this planet with its loathsome Hutt government, stupid double suns, godawful sand and heat and complete lack of any usable parts for his ship! Really! It was a standard Corellian Consular class, used for diplomats and the like by the Republic. They should have plenty of parts. Given, he had heavily modified it, but things like exterior paneling or repulsorlift components shouldn’t be too rare.

He had already dug through four junkyards and he was sick of it. He had enough with this nonsense and was getting back to his ship. He would manually lift cargo or use his somewhat iffy Force abilities to fake a repuslorlift until he could find parts on some non-sandy, non-sunbaked, non-parts-deprived hellhole of a planet!

Unfortunately his plans were diverted by a sudden tug in his mind. The son of a Dathomir witch and a slightly drugged-up Jedi sighed heavily, knowing what it meant. Turning he trudged into what he swore would be the last sand-infested junk shop he went to. The absolute _last_ , Force prompted diversions or not.

The Toydarian was annoying as any salesman, and Jyhn easily ignored him, looking around for the source of the Force’s pull and some useful parts. He finally spotted one of the two in the miserable outline of a boy slowly working on a droid of some sort. Blonde hair drooped in front of his face, every line of his body working to form a picture of absolute dejection. The collar around the boy’s neck was all Xan needed to know he was going to have to do something. He had been a slave for three very long years and was not going to tolerate another Force sensitive going through the same thing if he could help it.

Turning back to the piles of junk so he could look like he was going to make a legitimate purchase, he suppressed a sigh. Convincing the Toydarian was going to be a pain in the ass.

The Force was obviously determined he not leave without the boy however, because a perfect situation arose. While he was digging through a pile to get to the repulsorlift part he could see which was the exact part he needed (thank the Force this wasn’t just about the kid!) he heard a sudden commotion in the front of the shop interrupted by a cry of pain.

Grabbing the part and strolling back in, knowing appearing too concerned wouldn’t let this pan out, he raised an eyebrow at the Toydarian verbally abusing the boy in Huttese. It appeared some disgruntled pod racers had come in and roughed him up while the Toydarian was doing something else and the boy had not only broken an arm but been unable to stop them from swiping some merchandise.

“This is it boy! First person that makes an offer on you is getting your sorry carcass!” the hovering blue alien shouted. From the resigned look on the boy’s face, this was not the first time he had heard the threat.

Well too bad, he obviously hadn’t had the right Force-sensitive piloting god listening into the conversation.

“Excellent, I could use a mechanically inclined boy for my operation,” Xan interrupted smoothly. “Two thousand.”

The look on the aliens face showed he obviously hadn’t truly meant it, it was a bluff, but since someone had called him on it he couldn’t back down because that would be a weakness. And in a place like Mos Espa, weakness was not something anyone who wanted to run a business could afford. So the best thing to do was get the most money he could.

With that they settled in for some serious bargaining, Xan not going as low as he wanted because the boy was going into shock with his broken arm and the sudden bidding for his collar going on. Probably more the broken arm and exhaustion than anything else, but thankfully he knew someone who could get that seen to.

“Agreed, four-thousand six hundred,” he said, tossing in another hundred for the part he was buying. It wasn’t worth more than twenty but he didn’t feel like staying here for long arguing it down and just wanted the damn Toydarian to shut up and give him the kid’s collar control so he could get out of here and get that arm looked at.

“Just as well,” the alien groused, handing over the controller and accepting the money in return. “Looks like the kids not gonna be much good after this anyway.”

Xan looked over at the boy and suppressed a curse or fifty. He had fallen unconscious. Throwing the lad over his shoulder, he carried his part in the other hand as he fumbled for his comlink, hoping to call Verdi in order to get a ride to the spaceport. His only other crewmember was a doctor so with any luck he could treat the kid’s arm.

Of course Verdi didn’t pick up, so instead Xan commandeered a nearby speeder, dumping his passenger in the back before taking off, figuring he could just abandon it at the station and it would make its way back to the owner eventually. Or not. Either way they shouldn’t have left an unsecured speeder around for people like him to take advantage of, so he was really just teaching a valuable life lesson.

Reaching spaceport 19 he picked the kid up again and went to his ship, keying in the access code and sensing for Verdi anywhere nearby. Sure enough, Verdi was walking down the ramp to him as soon as it started coming down. Why the hell hadn’t he answered his call then? Blasted doctor.

Raising an eyebrow at him, Verdi said dryly, “You know, when most people impulse shop, they come back with a new datapad, some nice shoes, maybe an antique blaster. Not an eight-year-old junkyard slave.”

“Shut up and get him treatment. Pretty sure he broke his arm at least, in shock, unconscious, that jazz. Can we get off this Force-forsaken dustball?” Xan snapped, Verdi shrugging and taking the kid, the green-haired Correllian clearly unsurprised by his sour mood. While his co-pilot and best friend dealt with the kid he latched everything down, closed the hatches, sealed the ship and got cleared for take-off. By the time Verdi came back up to the cockpit, he had gotten them into space and was punching in the nav commands to hyperspace jump them to their next job on Bandomeer.

“Kid’s asleep. Got the control to get that collar off him?” Verdi asked, and Xan fished it out of his pocket and tossed it to him. The man turned around and left with it, leaving him to his brooding.

As they made the jump to hyperspace, Xan found himself dwelling on the Force prompted purchase he had sitting in medical. It wasn’t some urge to just help the boy, the Force had clearly wanted him to get him out of the situation – right?

When they reached the spaceport, he started feeling on edge, like he’d made a mistake buying the boy, but damn it! He wasn’t just going to leave the boy enslaved! A Force sensitive being enslaved was doubly torturous since they usually used Force suppressants and he couldn’t bear the idea of a child being under those. He had been eleven when he was put into Force deprived slavery and those three years before he had escaped had been absolute hell.

Shaking off the feeling, Xan let it go, tension dissipating. He let a long breath out. What was done was done. He had bought and freed the boy and for better or worse it appeared he had a young Force sensitive mechanically inclined hand on board. Better tell Verdi this crewmate was for keeps.

===***===pagebreak===***===

Anakin Skywalker woke up slowly, not recognizing the durasteel room he was in. It looked like descriptions of ship medical bays, but that made no sense. Watto would never let him on a ship! Trying to sit up, he found he couldn’t but for some reason that didn’t seem alarming. Actually, none of this seemed alarming, just odd.

He was obviously drugged, because otherwise he was pretty sure he’d be panicking. But panicking was too much effort right now, he decided, blinking sleepily at the ceiling.

“Ah, our latest crewmember is awake!” an unfamiliar voice said in Basic. Anakin turned his head slightly and saw a green haired human grinning at him. The man looked like he was pretty tall, probably had to stoop through doorways, and had a smile that seemed genuine; it traveled to his brown eyes anyway. And Anakin couldn’t help but feel like he could trust this guy. His mother had always told him his instincts were awesome, so he followed them as often as he could.

Wait a parsec – crewmember? What the – had Watto actually sold him? But what about his mom? 

Anakin was very grateful for the drugs right now, otherwise he would really be panicking. But for now he could remain somewhat calm. “Hi,” he said blandly, “Is my mom here?”

Judging by the way the guy blanched, he hadn’t known Anakin had a mother. So she wasn’t. That would make this awkward and sucky.

“Uhh, one moment while I check you over. You had a break in your arm and some scarring on your neck from that collar, so I want to check it real fast. Let me call the Captain though, he can answer your questions,” the man dodged, heading to the intercom and saying, “Captain to medbay immediately.”

“On my way,” another voice replied and the man relaxed, turning back to Anakin. “Here, let me help you sit up and we’ll get this examination over with hmm? What’s your name? I’m Verdi Nimbus, Corellian doctor and first mate on this ship.”

“Anakin Skywalker,” he replied, finally sitting up and getting a good look around. It was definitely a ship medical bay from the conversation, and seemed in pretty good condition, just a little worn from use. But it seemed like the ship would have no problem holding together at least.

“Nice to meet you Anakin,” the man said, poking and prodding at his right arm.

“So what’s up Verdi?” a new man asked, walking through the door. “Hey kid! Good to see you’re awake.”

“Anakin, this is our captain and pilot, Xanfrei Jyhn. I just call him Xan,” Verdi introduced, and Anakin smiled weakly at the black-haired man.

“Hi – do you know what happened to my mom?” that wince was not promising, not promising at all.

“Sithspit,” the man swore, hopping up to take a seat on one of the medical beds, thick braid swinging behind him. “Kiddo I didn’t know your mom was around or I would have at least gone to see her. Watto sold you to me after that incident with the podracers.”

Anakin had figured as much, but the drugs seemed to be wearing off and he was going to start freaking out soon. “Wha- what are you going to do with me?”

“Well first off, we got that collar off your neck. You’re young enough that there shouldn’t be any permanent scarring, especially since yours came off legitimately and not with some creative machine work,” the man smiled wryly, indicating the scarring around his own neck. “You’re not a slave. I don’t agree with slavery at all as I’m sure you can imagine.”

Anakin nodded slowly. If he had ever been freed he wouldn’t care for slavery either – wait a minute, he was free! Sweet suns he was free! Eyes widening incredulously, he stared at his savior in disbelief. He was actually free!

“So you have some choices,” here the man frowned. “First off, we can take you back to your mom. We can do that anyway and you can visit no matter what, but you need to realize that with you free she’ll have to work to feed both of you until you can find a job and not many will hire a freed kid. The other option is we find you a place somewhere in this wide old ‘verse where you can get some schooling, grow up with other kids, work your way in the world and live your life however. We’d just be those weird guys who happened to free you.”

“The third option,” a small smile flickered across the man’s face, “Is personally my favorite. You stay with us as a sort of junior crewmember. I know, smuggler’s life isn’t really suitable for kids, but I’m not like most smugglers. I take more legitimate cargo than I don’t, thanks to my reputation. And from what I saw in the shop you are pretty mechanically inclined and have some good instincts. I could use a copilot. You’d need training, but I can see potential if you survive Tatooine’s podraces. And mechanics are always useful on a ship.”

“I wanna see my mom,” Anakin said immediately, tilting his head obediently so Verdi could look at his neck.

“Okay. We have a cargo run to make, but we can head back to Tatooine then and find your mom and talk to her. It’ll probably take two and a half to three weeks,” Xan explained and Anakin nodded. That made sense, and if they would still take him back to his mom (and they _freed_ him!) then he’d be able to work with a few weeks without seeing her.

Verdi finished up his work and nodded to his boss. The kid was in the clear, “Just stay off that arm, don’t use it for much for another couple of days okay? The bacta did the trick and it was a simple break, but no need to stress the bone too much, all right?”

“Thanks mister Nimbus,” Anakin said politely.

“Verdi kid, Verdi. Space if we’re going to be travelling together for a few weeks might as well be on first name terms, we don’t stand much on formality here,” the doctor laughed, putting his tools away.

“Let me show you where you’ll be staying then. We don’t have much in your size, so you’ll have to wait on clothes till we get to Bandomeer in a few days, then we can at least get you enough that you won’t have to wear the same thing for days at a time. If you can do some mechanical work and pilot training while you’re here, then I can earmark some profits as your own wages and take the clothes out of that so there’s no debts incurred,” Xan explained, resting a hand on Anakin’s shoulder as he guided the slowly walking boy out of the medbay.

“How many people are on the ship?” Anakin asked, looking around at everything he could. They were walking down a central corridor towards what he figured was the aft of the ship. There wasn’t anything in the way of decoration in the hallway, the plain metal scuffed a bit but still pretty clean.

“Just the three of us. Have two astromechs and a cleaning droid that takes care of the main interior spaces. Your room will be your responsibility. Since there aren’t any other crew members you can have the crew quarters to yourself, though there are three bunks right now. Just use the extra for storage space if you want. There are two passenger rooms which can either be private or fit eight, depending on how we lay it out. We’re primarily freight though we do take some passengers,” Xan said, pushing a button to open a door to a room a bit bigger than Anakin’s at home, but with three beds instead of one.

“Little cramped, but the beds can be flipped up into the wall,” Xan smoothly flipped up the closest one and it tucked into the wall smoothly, latched so it lay flush against it with shelving space hollowed out in the metal bedframe. “You can choose any of them, but that one’s a little close to the door.”

“I’ll use the far one, thanks,” Anakin said quietly, slightly overwhelmed with everything that was happening.

“Figured. Clothes are on that shelving unit, some of them shouldn’t be too oversized. ‘Fresher is supposed to be shared by the three occupants of this room and the three in the next, but the next one is a small library and is sealed off from the fresher and you’re the only one here,” the captain scratched his head, looking at Anakin thoughtfully. “I’m pretty sure that’s it, any questions?”

“N-no,” Anakin stammered, still staring in shock at the new space that was apparently all his. Sure it was just about the size of his old room, but… new clothes that looked warmer than his desert gear, a refresher all to himself, a whole ship to explore and a guy who said he’d teach him to fly and most of all – he was _free_!

The man chuckled at his stare, and suggested gently, “You can try out your fresher and then get some sleep. I know you just woke up but you look exhausted.”

“Thanks,” Anakin said suddenly, looking up at the man. “I – I don’t know how I can ever repay you for all this.”

“Don’t worry about it kid. Us Force-sensitives have to stick together, yeah?” the man grinned wryly before leaving the room, leaving a totally confused eight-year-old behind.

“Force what’s?” he asked into the silence.

===***===pagebreak===***===

“So Verdi, what’s the verdict on Anakin?” Xan asked, grabbing a cup of caf before taking a seat in the small galley. The ship was meant to have a crew of eight – six standard crew members, a doctor and the captain. There were quarters for another five security personnel but those quarters had been cannibalized and joined into one large room for sparring. As a result, the galley dining area was echoingly empty with just the two of them.

“Good. Kid’s in good physical condition, hasn’t been beaten excessively and overall is in far better condition than you were when I found you,” Verdi said mildly, sipping at his tea. “There were no Force suppressors though, which you asked me to look for.”

“Absolutely none? But the boy is fairly glowing with it!” Xan said, surprised, “He felt like the Jedi Masters I would meet, given, untrained, but powerful. How could the Jedi have missed him without suppressors?”

“They don’t take anything but infants and toddlers Xan, if he had even been five when they found him they probably wouldn’t take him,” Verdi replied, “Besides, Jedi probably don’t make it to Tatooine too often.”

“Point,” Xan sighed, “Well how’d the rest of the Tatooine mission go? Can we fill this empty hole?”

“Yep, finally got enough parts we can convert half this into a pretty nice hydroponics unit. Maybe even some small fruit trees,” Verdi smiled happily at the thought. Hydroponics units were expensive to set up, prohibitively so, but if you could get one going it would pay for itself pretty quickly as long as you had appropriate maintenance. Thankfully Verdi had experience with them. The clinic where he had worked on Correllia had been high class, having rooms with various biospheres for different species to feel more comfortable in and he had helped with maintenance. This had been a three year project and the final components were pretty common on water-lacking Tatooine so now they had those and the project could get underway.

“Good, see if you can get the kid involved,” Xan recommended, “Then you can keep an eye on him and make sure he’s not overusing that arm of his. He’s asleep right now, or should be at any rate he seemed pretty tired, so I figured I’d check on him before we eat dinner.”

“Nice idea. Any guesses as to the kid’s choice?” Verdi raised an eyebrow, “You realize if he stays with us we’ll basically be raising a kid right? I’ve had children, not an easy proposition.”

“I know, I’ve been involved in raising kids too sometimes, and I know it’s harder full-time, but I wasn’t going to leave a Force sensitive to rot, especially since it seems he doesn’t know what a treasure that is,” Xan frowned. “If he really needs to learn control we may need to stop by Dathomir.”

“I really hate visiting that planet,” Verdi shuddered, “All males are slaves and crazy rancors trying to eat me all the time.”

“My mom’s settlement is pretty mild, the guys aren’t bad off, they just can’t have leadership roles,” Xan reassured him, though he knew Verdi already knew that, “And I’m sure if you ask nicely one of the witches will keep their evil rancors away from you.”

Verdi glowered at his teasing. His last encounter with one of the witches had not ended very well, though everyone else thought it was hilarious.

Xan just snickered.

===***===pagebreak===***===

“Hey, Anakin?” an unfamiliar voice said gently, someone shaking his shoulder. “Skywalker, wake up, kiddo. You need to eat.”

Opening his eyes blearily, Anakin looked up into the weathered face of the captain. Dark eyebrows quirked at his momentarily blank expression, but then Anakin remembered what was going on.

“Oh, sorry Mr. Xanfrei sir,” he said hurriedly, sitting up quickly and then wincing as the world spun and his arm throbbed.

“Whoa there kid, don’t move too fast, you’re probably faint from lack of food. IVs really don’t cut it,” the captain smiled, “And it’s Xan, Xanfrei if you must.”

“S-sorry Xanfrei,” Anakin shivered, suddenly cold. The captain noticed and grabbed one of the pieces of clothes from the shelf, unfolding it to reveal a coat. He tucked it over Anakin’s shoulders and the leather jacket nearly dragged on the floor when he stood up, but he already felt a little warmer.

“You’ll grow into it,” Xan assured him, amusement clear on his face. “Come on, let’s get some food. Space food leaves something to be desired, but Verdi can do some crazy stuff with it.”

Anakin was guided through the ship again, Xan keeping a hand between his shoulder blades to propel him along. He could also tell that the man was ready to catch him if he stumbled or fell, which he was grateful for. His legs felt a little wobbly. He frowned, that wasn’t normal – he was free to admit he was usually too proud to admit he needed help, why was he suddenly grateful this stranger offered it?

Was he still drugged up?

“Did you dose me with something?” he asked suspiciously, looking up at the man. The Captain didn’t deny it or get angry, he just frowned thoughtfully and said, “It should have worn off. Just a pain-killer, had a sedative in it too I think so you didn’t come to while Verdi was working on your arm. Still feeling wonky?”

“No-o,” Anakin said slowly, taking careful stock of himself. From getting in brawls with Kitster he knew how to pretty accurately guess when something was wrong and what it was. He didn’t feel woozy, and his reaction times didn’t seem to be off. So it wasn’t sedatives that were making him so calm about this then. Something else was at work here.

Xan, meanwhile, was watching the boy out of the corner of his eye as he propelled him into the galley. Anakin was obviously doing some heavy thinking, his expression gave it away, and the Force was swirling around him with such… _joy_ , that he found it hard to believe anyone could have missed the potential this boy had. Every time he so much as breathed the Force pulsed.

It was comforting, strangely enough. Usually wary around any being which had more power than him, Xan found himself at ease with the kid’s unconscious strength, basking in the contentment the Force contained when Anakin was near.

He momentarily shoved to the back of his mind what would happen when Anakin got angry or depressed. The idea of trying to captain a ship while sobbing his heart out because of the Force spreading an adolescent’s woe was not appealing. Verdi, naturally, would find it hilarious if it happened.

Dathomir and a visit to his lovely mother were definitely looking likely.

“There’s the guest of honor!” Verdi grinned, balancing two trays of food on his arm and heading to the small table the two of them always used, a third chair dragged over so Anakin could join them. “Xan, you can carry your own food. Grab me some tea, would you?”

“Would you like wine with that, good sir?” Xan replied in a posh Coruscanti accent, grinning at his friend while Anakin sat down, Verdi sliding a tray in front of him. Somehow, with creative use of spices and food-dyes Xan was sure, Verdi had managed to make space-food look not only edible, but appealing.

“A dry Alderaan green would go well with the protein dish, thank you,” he waved off, taking a seat as Xan headed to get his own food, shaking his head at Verdi’s pretensions.

Sitting down moments later with Verdi’s cup of green tea and his own meal, Xan was unsurprised to find his second had drawn the boy into conversation about the hydroponics project. Anakin became more animated as the conversation became more technical. Xan was pleased to see his guess was right; the boy was a truly gifted mechanic.

“So with the dimensions we’re looking at, it becomes a problem of volume to output ratios…” and off they went, Xan merely plowing through Verdi’s concoction (amazing, as usual) and eavesdropping. He was a good hand with tools himself, he often found himself singlehandedly keeping his Consular class ship together after some of their riskier runs, but Verdi had this conversation well at hand. And he was hungry.

“But the draining system would have to be partitioned so we can do repairs on part of the system without drying up the whole set, right?”

“Yes, we planned for that, but what is giving us trouble is determining the optimum number of partitions…” Verdi trailed off leadingly, scraping up the last bite of his food.

“Yeah, parts to efficiency and all,” Anakin nodded, having already finished.

“I’ll clear this off and get the schematics so we can look over them together,” Xan offered, and judging by the brilliant grin he got from both his tablemates the offer was much appreciated.

They ended up poring over the schematics with Anakin for a few hours. The boy was filled with questions and ideas, nearly exploding with excitement when the multiple pages of schematics had been laid out in front of him. They were as detailed as any contractor could hope for, since he and Verdi had drawn them themselves, and Anakin obviously appreciated their efforts.

It wasn’t until he had rolled up the papers and Verdi had fetched some hot drinks – tea for Xan and him, milk with cinnamon sugar for Anakin – that Anakin asked a question which had obviously been bothering him for some time.

Taking a happy sip of the drink (which he had initially viewed with immense suspicion), he hesitated before looking at Xan through lowered lashes. “Mis… ah, Xan?”

“Yeah Anakin?” he prompted, relieved the kid finally felt comfortable enough to drop the full name. Every time Anakin used it he felt like he was in front of his mother again.

“What’s a Force-sensitive?”

Xan felt like he had been drop-kicked. This boy, so _alive_ in the Force, didn’t know what he was? Then his logic caught up with the rest of him and he put together the pieces which should have fallen together automatically. The boy had never been found by the Jedi, Force knew why, so he obviously had no idea there was anything unusual about his hunches or instincts being unusually accurate. Tatooine was not exactly a hot-bed of Jedi supporters and Republic enthusiasts, so it was entirely possible he had never even _heard_ of the Jedi, much less the strange powers they had due to the Force.

“Well, it’s…” Xan struggled to find the words. The Force, how could he explain something so _basic_ , so central, that he felt he had always known about it and been able to detect its presence?

Taking a deep breath, he centered himself and released his anxiety. It was getting in the way of the more important matter, explaining to this boy what a gem he was without giving him the ego the size of a supernova.

“The Force is what we call a mystical energy that binds every living thing together. The universe is all connected via the Force and there are some people who are sensitive to it. Have you heard of the Jedi?” Xan began, and was relieved to see Anakin nod. That took a load off. “They use the Force to accomplish their feats, as well as their extensive training and lightsabers.”

“So… I can sense this Force?” Anakin asked hesitantly.

Xan nodded solemnly, “You can. I’m certain you have used it without actually knowing it. Do you ever have hunches? Guesses that just seem to tell you if someone is trustworthy, or going to try to knife you?”

“Yeah,” Anakin said slowly, “My mom always said to trust my instincts.”

“Your mother is a very smart woman,” Xan nodded, smiling slightly at the instant brightness praising his mother gave Anakin. “Especially with Force-sensitives, our instincts and hunches have a tendency to be right. Still, you can’t just act on your hunches. You need solid evidence and skill to be able to actually react to those instincts in a way that won’t just make the situation worse.”

“You said ‘our’, so… you’re one too?”

“Yes, but not nearly so sensitive as I believe you are,” Xan replied. The blood work had been processed and when Verdi had told him the midichlorian results he had nearly spat his caf all over the man. More than 20,000 per cell? That was… insane! He had 9,000 per cell, already far above average even for some of the Jedi.

“Oh. So...” Anakin bit his lip. “I think I’ll need to talk to my mom about it when we get back.”

“Good idea, mom’s always know more than the rest of us about their kids,” Xan winked. “I know mine always seemed to know what I was up to before I did!”

“I know!” Anakin exclaimed, “Mom’s totally the same way! If Kitster and I were ever even considering messing around she would just give me this _look_ like she knew exactly what I was going to try and pull!”

“I’m telling you, I think it’s a Force thing. Mother’s instantly gain sensitivity to the Force when they give birth or something,” Xan shook his head. There had actually been a study published on that a few decades back, and it was true for the first few months after birth, but usually the elevated levels faded back to normal for the subject after six months or so. Some didn’t though, the anomalies. Maybe Anakin’s mom was one of those. Or Anakin just had a horrible poker face.

Well if it was the latter, they’d fix that soon enough. He caught the kid’s yawn and grinned, hand shooting out to ruffle his hair, “Tired yet?” he teased.

The shock in Anakin’s eyes at the gesture faded quickly and he grinned back sheepishly, “Yeah a bit. But I slept so much already!” he whined.

“Unconscious induced by sedatives does not count as sleep,” Verdi snorted. “Come on kid, I’ll take you back. Need to check on your arm real fast before you crash.”

“Okay, okay,” Anakin sighed, draining the last of his milk and following Verdi out the door. Xan shook his head fondly and took the three cups to go back to the servo before turning it on. After a quick chat with Verdi, it was time for him to hit his own bunk. There were still going to be superluminal for a few days, so might as well catch the rest while he could.

Catching Verdi locking up the med-bay’s supply of drugs, he asked, “What do you think?”

“I think he’ll be a real asset if he wants to stay on. Worth the hassle of raising him I think, how about you?” the Correllian said, lounging on a repulsor bed.

Xan hopped up on the same bed and folded his legs so he was sitting comfortably at Verdi’s feet. “I think he’s worth it. The Force,” he let out a low whistle, “I wish you could feel it Ver, it’s incredible. Just incredible.”

“So Dathomir’s in the cards?”

“Oh yes,” Xan nodded, “I need to ask my mother for control exercises for him at the very least. That much potential going to no active use… criminal as far as I’m concerned. He’ll be no Jedi, but he’ll be amazing all the same.”

“So are you going to get more active on your Force training then? You’ve been letting it slide the past few years, just using it as a trouble sensor really,” Verdi raised an eyebrow, “You used to be able to pull some pretty impressive tricks yourself if I recall.”

“Still could if I had to, but it wouldn’t be as effortless as before,” Xan sighed, “Yeah, I will. Can’t let the kid work harder than me, right? Bad image to present as a captain. Besides, my mother’s going to kick my ass for letting it slide these past years as it is, if I didn’t intend to sincerely study again, she’d sic a rancor on me.” He shuddered theatrically, but not all of it was faked. His mother was a pretty terrifying woman.

===***===pagebreak===***===

Verdi found himself smiling a lot more often with Anakin around. There wasn’t much to smile about on Bandomeer, it was a badly abused mining world that was only starting to get better thanks to the fairly recent environmental restoration efforts that were going on. But the kid managed to get him to smile more on planetside than he had in a long time. Xan was great, but his friend and he seldom spent their time on planet together, going their separate ways in order to be more efficient. Xan was big on efficiency.

They were walking through the market district, picking up essentials (like clothes and a toothscrubber for Anakin) as well as some more luxury items (an interesting medallion for Xan, a funny rock carving for Anakin, and a small sample of one of Bandomeer’s few native plants for him). Well, Verdi was walking. Anakin was running around like a Jawa turned loose in a junkyard, clearly amazed by everything he was seeing.

When the comm unit he carried in his shirt pocket went off, Verdi knew it had been too good to last. “Verdi here,” he said.

“Get to the ship,” Xan said shortly. He sounded tense, and a tense Xan meant a bad situation. Usually involving injuries, more often than not at least some of them were Xan’s.

Automatically sweeping the area for threats with his gaze, he said back, “Will do,” before quickly grabbing Anakin. “Come on kid, we need to get back to the ship. Xan’s run into some trouble,” he explained, walking quickly through the crowds. His height and confident stance split the crowds in front of him, Anakin right beside him, though at a light jog to keep up.

“Is Xan going to be okay?” Anakin asked worriedly as they cut through an alley to get to the spaceport side entrance.

Verdi grinned down at him, “Hey, we may not be Jedi, but we can take care of ourselves. You worry about getting onto the ship with our stuff okay? You remember how to prep for takeoff and get the engines lit?”

“Yep!” he replied, totally confident.

“Okay, good. You take these things, do that, and I’ll find Xan so we can get off this rock fast with the least amount of trouble possible,” Verdi said. This was already more convenient with the two of them. Normally he had to get back to the ship and stay with it, waiting for Xan to get to him so they could take off. Otherwise he had to grab Xan and then get to a ship they needed to start, often under some form of hostile assault.

Given, these sorts of things very seldom happened. The _Nimbus Djinn_ and her crew of two had a very solid reputation for both prompt deliveries and decent security for precious cargo. Most often it was just a local misunderstanding Xan felt the need to get embroiled in because some innocent was in the crossfire. As much as the man scoffed at the idea of his being a Jedi, Verdi could easily see it in his actions and mentality. But Dathomir had stopped being searched for suitable children years ago.

Making sure Anakin got on the ship safely, Verdi headed out, comming Xan, “Where?”

“Near spaceport, three blocks north, two alleys west,” Xan’s voice was rushed, interrupted by pauses which indicated he was focusing on his opponents. These ones weren’t just washouts then. They actually had some staying power. That or they had numbers and terrain on their side.

Verdi undid the strap holding his blaster in, keeping pace at a light jog while he worked his brass knuckles onto his right hand. Getting caught competing in an underground fighting ring was what had gotten him thrown out of the Corellian medical community years ago. Thankfully his children had been full grown and his marriage already fallen apart by then, so he didn’t feel too guilty when he took off for the Outer Rim, where a medical license of any sort was considered a bonus.

He heard the fight before he saw it. Grunts of pain and harsh kyas carried a few allies over. No blaster fire though, so it seemed this was an up close and personal kind of fight. Verdi drew his blaster and stepped around the corner, raising the pistol and firing off a shot in one smooth motion which spoke of hours on the range. One of Xan’s adversaries fell, screaming in pain as the flesh around his shoulder sizzled.

Xan leapt over the falling man and ran past Verdi, saying, “Order’s at the docks, get to the ship!”

Verdi kept his blaster out as they ran through the streets, staying on main thoroughfares this time. They didn’t run into any more trouble though and checked the cargo, a few crates of datacards, agricultural and mining samples heading for Mrlsst, before loading it up quickly. Xan also got approval for take-off and as soon as the cargo was aboard he went for the cockpit, taking the pilot seat and handling the take-off, Anakin watching intently as he punched in navigational data and got them into hyperspace.

None of them completely relaxed until they had been superluminal a good three minutes.

Xan hung the headset up and leaned back with a groan. Anakin shifted around so he could get a better look at him while Verdi asked, “You need medical Xan?”

“Just some bruising,” Xan waved off. “Hutts didn’t appreciate my not getting cheated, so they sent those guys after me to try and steal the credits back. Idiots.”

Verdi snorted. This had happened before and they had a system. They had an account with the InterGalactic Banking Clan with the minimum deposit of 150 credits. Every time they made landfall and got a job, as soon as the money was in Xan’s hands he went and deposited it into the account. He then commed Verdi, and he knew they had the money to make purchases while planetside. He would withdraw cash from the account at every retailer he went to, until the account was again down to 150. Xan never carried large amounts of credits for more than an hour after the transaction was made, and very few employers would attack during that hour, since it only made it too obvious exactly who had hired the thugs.

“The greed of a Hutt can be counted on until the end of time,” Verdi quoted. “Pain killer?”

“Nah, maybe tonight before I try to sleep. But not now.”

“All right then. Anakin, can you help me unload everything and get it squared away?”

“Sure thing!” the boy agreed, following Verdi out and leaving Xan alone in the cockpit. The remaining tension in his body eased and he slid out of the chair onto the floor, folding his legs and straightening so he could meditate more effectively. He tried to do this whenever he finished a fight, especially one where he used his best trick.

There had been blasters initially, but Force lightning manipulation destroyed the power-packs, leaving the attackers with nothing more than their fists. Dangerous enough with the six of them against him that he had called Verdi for back-up. Besides, experience showed if he fought off the first group, a second group would be en route within minutes, so it was best to leave the planet quickly. Especially now they had a kid on board.


	2. Beginnings: Meet the mothers

Xan followed Anakin through the streets and alleys of Mos Espa. Verdi was taking care of the shipment they had picked up at Mrlsst since he knew the recipient. The boy was weaving through crowds and returning greetings quickly, not pausing to stop and talk with anyone. His focus was entirely on reaching his mother.

They had arrived in the afternoon, Anakin figuring that his mother would be off by the time they reached his home. Thankfully he was correct and when he burst through the door to his old home crying, “Mom!” there was a joyous greeting, “Ani!”

Xan stepped in the door and let it shut behind him, smiling slightly as he watched the dark-haired woman hug Anakin fiercely. Anakin returned the gesture with interest, burying his face in her shoulder. “Watto said he sold you,” she murmured, eyes bright with tears as she looked him over.

“He did,” Anakin nodded, pointing over his shoulder, “To Xan. But he doesn’t like slavery, so he freed me!”

“Oh… oh my,” Shmi rose to her feet hastily and bowed slightly, “My apologies, I was just so happy to see Ani again.”

“Actually, I owe you an apology Madam Skywalker,” Xan replied, offering her a far deeper bow. “It was not my intent to cause any worry. He was unconscious after I had negotiated with Watto and by the time he woke we were in hyperspace. I was unaware he had family.”

“Unconscious? Ani!” Shmi looked down at her son in shock, who scuffed his toe on the floor.

“Some _koochoo_ podracers came in when Watto was around back and were angry I beat them,” Anakin said, “They broke my arm and stole some stuff.”

“Watto failed to mention that part,” she said faintly, before shaking it off. “Now Ani, are you going to introduce us?”

“Wha—oh! Sorry. Um, Mom, this is Captain Xanfrei Jyhn. Xan, this is my Mom. Shmi Skywalker,” it took him a moment to remember his mother’s actual name.

Xan nodded at the woman with a smile, “Pleasure, ma’am.”

“Shmi, please, Captain.”

“Just Xan. Xanfrei makes me look over the shoulder for my mother,” he grinned at her laugh.

“Please, sit down. Ani, you know where the juice is if you want any. Would you like anything Xan?” she asked, ushering him to a seat.

“No, thank you,” he declined, taking a seat at the small table. She sat down across from him with Anakin perched on the chair beside her.

“So, Anakin’s free, now?” she began after a few moments’ silence.

“Yes,” Xan pulled his high shirt-collar down slightly to reveal the pale white lines of scarring. “I’m not particularly fond of slavery myself, so when I had the chance, I took it.”

“That was dangerous,” she frowned, eyeing the scars worriedly. “Are they still after you?”

“No, there wasn’t much left after I was through,” Xan reassured her. He understood, slavers were very possessive and if he had still been pursued by his former owners Anakin would have been at risk. “It was years ago ma’am. Over ten.”

“Oh, good,” Shmi sighed, before turning to Anakin and saying, “Why don’t you go to your room and pack up anything you want to take with you?”

“Mom?” he asked, eyes wide, “But—are you—“

“There’s no future for you here,” Shmi said sadly, tucking some hair behind his ear as he stared at her desperately. “You can come visit whenever you like, you and your captain are always welcome, but you shouldn’t stay if you have a chance to leave.”

“He’ll always be welcome on any ship I captain,” Xan assured her, Shmi sending a quick smile his way before returning her focus to Anakin, who nodded before sliding out of his chair to go to his room.

As soon as the door shut behind the boy, Shmi returned her focus to him, gaze sharp as she said firmly, “Ani is special.”

“I know,” Xan informed her simply, “It is what drew him to my attention in the first place.”

“Will you be able to help him?”

Xan was impressed. She knew he was special, knew that there was _something_ more he was meant for, and wanted to make sure any newcomer to his life knew that. For a non-Force sensitive, her insight was incredible. He almost wanted to ask for a blood sample to make sure.

“Yes. My mother taught me, and I will pass those teachings on and bring him to her so she can ensure I’m not making any mistakes,” he explained, not feeling any need to explain the teachings in detail. They both knew what sort of teachings were needed, even if Shmi was probably unaware of the exact nature of Ani’s special qualities.

“Good,” Shmi looked at the door to her son’s room, and she smiled sadly, “I always knew this day would come. He wasn’t meant for this life. I’m just glad it was someone who understands who got him out.”

“Verdi and I will take good care of him,” Xan promised.

“Good. I’ll hold you to that,” she nodded once, firmly, before turning to face him again. “You had best call your partner and invite him to dinner. I plan to get to know the men who will be raising my son in my stead.”

“Of course, fair lady,” Xan bowed extravagantly from his seat, pulling out his comm-unit and smiling at her laughter.

Verdi soon arrived, bringing some fresh fruits with him and gladly helping Shmi in the kitchen, the two cooks swapping tips and tricks. He also inquired after Anakin’s favorites, to Shmi’s obvious delight. Xan meanwhile, had been pulled in to help Anakin pack.

“Hey kiddo,” Xan said, stepping into the small room and frowning slightly at the sight of Anakin sitting listlessly on his bed, pack stuffed and at his feet. “Mind if I sit?” he asked, Anakin just shrugging. He took it as a yes and sprawled out on the bed, feet dangling off the edge as he propped himself up to watch his newest crewmember. “What’s up?”

“I don’t wanna leave my mom,” Anakin said quietly, not looking up from his knees.

“Yeah,” Xan sighed, “Thought so.”

They sat for a while in silence before Anakin asked tentatively, “We could free her…?”

“Don’t have the money for that, not and keep the ship running,” Xan said quietly, “Getting you pretty much wiped out our savings.”

“Oh,” Anakin looked crushed, and guilty, as he returned his gaze to the floor, feet swinging idly.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t save up again. It’ll take a while. Couple years at least. More, if things go wrong. But we can save up for it.”

“You mean it?” Anakin perked up, watching him from under his lashes. Xan smiled tiredly, “Heck kid, if it was just me I’d have bought her all ready. But I need to make sure you and Verdi are taken care of, which means proceeding carefully. Don’t think your mom will want you to suffer to get her out immediately.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Anakin frowned, before nodding sharply, “But we’ll save up and free mom.”

“Five, six years, tops,” Xan promised, holding out his hand to shake. Anakin gripped it firmly and sealed the deal, determination in every line of his body. Xan almost smiled, but kept it back so not to ruin the solemnity of the moment. It was good to see him so passionate about something. It gave a good insight into his mind and a good motivation to use in the future.

“Now let’s go see if Verdi and your mom need any help with dinner,” Xan urged, Anakin picking up his pack and following him out, the room left behind empty.

Dinner went smoothly, conversation moving along easily between Shmi’s questions and Xan’s stories. Anakin became more enthusiastic as the conversations went on, launching into a complicated hand-waving explanation of the hydroponics unit they had almost finished installing. It wasn’t until they cleaned up and got ready to leave that he withdrew into himself again.

Shmi gave goodbye hugs to each of them, saving Ani for last, and when she released him he wiped away at tears before pulling a small item out of his pocket, wrapped in an oil-stained piece of cloth. “I made this for you, finished it before going to Watto’s that day,” he said tremulously, Shmi taking the item gently before unfolding the cloth, revealing a carefully carved japor snippet on a leather cord long enough to wear as a necklace.

“It’s carved with good-luck sigils,” Anakin explained, and Shmi smiled at him gently before taking the loop of leather and placing it over his head, japor snippet bouncing over his heart as it settled.

“Mo-mom?” Anakin stammered, looking at her in shock as he covered the snippet with his hand, “It’s for _you_.”

“But it obviously is meant for _you_ ,” she said firmly, placing her hand over his. “Those aren’t just good-luck sigils Ani. The one in the middle is for _freedom_. And the day you finished it, you found your freedom. Keep it. That snippet his more than just luck Ani. It means something and it means something for _you_. Besides, you’re entering the dangerous profession,” she flicked his nose gently, laughing softly as he automatically swatted at her hand. “You’ll need all the luck.”

“I’ll write,” Ani promised, “And we’ll visit!”

“There see? I’m already plenty lucky. Now you had all best get going. I love you Ani, and I’ll see you later, so no need to look back.”

“Kay mom,” Anakin said, hugging her again before picking up his pack and looking up at Xan, who pushed himself away from the wall and said, “Let’s go then. Madam Skywalker, a pleasure.”

“It’s Shmi, Captain, really,” she smiled waving them out. “And thank you.”

“Oh no, thank you,” Verdi grinned, “We have tons of new recipes.”

“Oh suns, he’s going to _experiment_ ,” Xan griped as he guided Anakin away, “We’d best keep some ration bars on hand kid, until he gets it right we might be starving.”

Shmi’s laugh followed them most of the way to the spaceport. After Anakin was sleeping and they were in space again, Xan acknowledged that the meeting had gone well. Far better than he had feared. He could only hope the introduction to his mother went so smoothly in a couple weeks.

Yeah. He doubted it.

===***===pagebreak===***===

“ _Waytha ara quetha way_!”

Xan dove forward, rolling as he hit the ground and springing back to his feet again as he took off in a different direction, the rock propelled by the wind his mother had summoned crashing into the ground behind him. “Now _matre_ , really!” he shouted over his shoulder. “There’s no need for flying boulde—ack!”

“You too _shway_ for us now?” she snarled as he dangled upside down by the ankle, braid swinging under him. “ _Nie,_ I hear three sentences! Three sentences! For a year! And then you show up with a _son?!_ _Ta’liyor_!”

“ _Matre!_ ” Xan cried indignantly, “He’s not my _son_ for _Que-Ta’s_ sake. I _bought_ him. The _Liy-tha_ smacked me over the head and I couldn’t just leave him there. _Matre_ —surely you felt it!”

“I felt him in orbit, _soki_ ,” the woman sighed, hands resting on leather-clad hips. “Fine. That’s enough for now. But you, you have been lazy. Let your training slide! I should never have been able to catch you!”

“Yes _matre_ ,” Xan sighed, feeling lightheaded from being upside-down so long. “Can you let me go please?”

With an imperious sniff and a wave of her hand, the hold on his ankle released and he dropped for the ground head-first. He had prepared for that though, and caught himself on his hands using the momentum to complete a back-handspring and return to his feet in front of his mother, mystic and healer of the Whispering Trees village.

“Now let me take a good look at you,” she said roughly, looking him over with sharp brown eyes, crinkling at the corners as she smiled. “Ach, my _soki_. All grown and space-faring like some _shway Jai_.”

“ _Matre,_ you know I’m no _Jai,_ ” Xan sighed, returning her hug happily.

“More like your father every day,” she continued, ignoring his protests completely. Xan was just glad the greeting part of this was over so soon. He’d been running for only thirty minutes, nearly a record. “Now introduce me to my new grandchild.”

“Yes _matre_ ,” Xan agreed easily, following her back to her small home, carefully built from local clay and stone. Anakin and Verdi were sitting on the bench by the doorway, Anakin watching them approach worriedly. Xan had told them to wait by the door as he went inside to tell his mother the good news. A few moments later she had been shouting and Xan had been running for his life, trying to explain. Made sense the boy was a little nervous.

“So, you are Anakin Skywalker,” she said imperiously, watching him through narrowed eyes as he fidgeted.

“Yes ma’am,” Anakin replied meekly, eyes locked on her like a mouse trapped by a snake.

“Hmph. At least you have a decent name, for an off-world brat,” she allowed grudgingly, “I am Shaman Helshai, of Whispering Trees village. Xanfrei is my _soki_ and he has taken you in, making you my _sosoki._ You, shall call me _fa-Matre_ or _Sea-shi_ Helshai, for you are my student as well as my _sosoki_. Yes?”

“Yes _fa-Matre_ ,” Anakin replied promptly.

“Excellent, I believe we will get along splendidly. Come along inside child, you can have Xanfrei’s old room. He and his _brie_ can sleep on the floor. Or maybe they’ll take one of the many invitations they’ve received and leave us to bond in peace.”

“No, _matre_ ,” Xan sighed, shaking his head. Verdi echoed the gesture, eyes wide and vaguely panicked. They received propositions every time they came to Dathomir—Verdi’s first attempt at a polite refusal had resulted in the rancor-chase he would never forget. Xan was familiar enough with the customs of Dathomir and his village in particular he knew Verdi would never accept the lack of connection father’s often had with their children, so had been sure to explain things to his first mate before they came here the first time. He didn’t want to never be able to return after all.

Helshai merely sniffed, ushering Anakin into the house before her, explaining the structure of the home and what sort of things he could expect while he was staying. Xan sighed and exchanged amused looks with Verdi, “Yeah, this is going to be a fun visit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the language Xan and his mom use is supposed to be the Dathomir Paecian-based tongue, but there's only two or three words available with definitions, so I made it up. Here's the ones I thought weren't totally obvious in context:
> 
> Que-Tha: goddess/god figure  
> Liy-tha: the Force  
> Ta'liyor: insult of some sort...  
> shway: stolen from Firefly, means cool/snobby/badass depending on target


	3. Interlude: Take an easy job, add Anakin, get chaos

_Corellia, (Month 3, Job 2)_

“I’m sorry!” Anakin wailed from his position over Xanfrei’s shoulder. “How was I supposed to know the whole thing was rigged?”

“Anakin, it’s underground swoop racing, of _course_ it’s rigged!” Xan shouted, sliding around a corner and taking off down another alley.

“Well then they didn’t rig it very well,” Anakin grumbled, before shouting at their pursuers, “Hear that _kriffing poodoo_ scum?! You all _suck_ at rigging!”

“Anakin!” Xan growled, “Stop taunting the people with blasters!”

“They don’t have—oh shit. Faster! _Faster!_ GRENADE!”

“Dammit Anakin!”

_Dathomir (Month 5, Training Visit 4)_

“What have we told you three about riding rancors?” Helshai demanded, hands on her hips as she glowered down at the three children sitting at her feet in various states of distress. Anakin had a splinted arm, Merai was favoring a stitched up leg while Derras had a half-shaved head and poultice smeared cuts on his scalp.

“Not too unless we’re invited by a witch,” two of the three chorused dully. Derras was concussed pretty badly, but Verdi’s scans and Helshai’s senses said he would recover all right.

“So what by _Que’tha_ possessed you to jump from a tree onto a _wild rancor’s back?!_ ”

Anakin eyed the floor guiltily while Merai and Derras pointed at the instigator, “It was Anakin’s idea!”

 

_Nar Shaddaa (Month 6, Job 8)_

Blood of various colors splattered the walls of the alley, Verdi grumbling as he kicked over one of the bodies to check for valuables and identification. Xan was crouched in front of a trembling Anakin a few meters away.

“Hey kiddo, next time I say don’t wander off, do me a favor and _stop wandering off_!” Xan managed to keep his voice somewhat level until the end, Anakin only nodding shakily at the demand.

“So-sorry,” Anakin hiccupped, tears streaming down his face.

“Ah hell, kid,” Xan pulled him way from the wall into his arms, Anakin burying his face in his shoulder. “You scared me half to death with that stunt.”

“Hey Xan?” Anakin asked shakily, “When you called me _soki_ … did you mean it?”

Xan looked down at Anakin, noting his poorly hidden hopeful look, and sighed, a small smile on his face. “Promise me not to do this again, and we can pick up the paperwork at the next port of call.”

Anakin’s face split in a huge grin, tears drying up almost immediately, “Deal!”

_Dathomir (Month 9, Training Visit 12)_

“There you go _sosoki_! You’ve got it!” Helshai cheered as Anakin juggled rocks and floated at the same time.

Xan watched from where he was doing gymnastic routines, supplemented by the Force to make a quadruple somersault after a side-jump possible, a grin on his face. Anakin was making good progress and now it was time for him to hold up his part of the bargain.

“Think he’s ready _matre_?” he asked mid-leap.

Helshai looked over at him and nodded thoughtfully, “Yes _soki_ , I think he is. Ready to pass on your technique?”

“As ever, ready to learn lightning _soki_?”

“ _Finally!_ ” Anakin cheered, yelping as he crashed to the ground with his loss of focus, rocks dropping around him too, Verdi cussing when one of them landed on his stomach a few meters over. “Hehe—whoops?”

 

_Tatooine (Month 11, Job 13)_

“—and then there was this _huge_ Basalesk and it was all kwa-pow, sla—“

Xan looked over at where Anakin was telling stories to Kitster, the only one of his friends from Tatooine that still hung out with him when they came planet-side. Shmi came over to sit next to him on the bench, enjoying the cooling evening air.

“So, how much of those stories are real?” Shmi asked laughingly.

“Oh, maybe… seventy-percent? He isn’t nearly so bad-ass as he likes to portray,” Xan confided, smiling at Shmi’s laugh. “He’s getting there though.”

“Yes, I hear you and Verdi are teaching him how to fight?”

Xan cringed at the raised eyebrow and warning tone, defending, “Nothing extreme, mostly how to hold them off long enough to run or let us get there. Most of his lessons are obstacle course running so he can get away.”

“I’m not angry about it, it’s valuable learning. I’m just glad someone’s teaching him safely instead of him picking it up on the fly. He would get into quite a few scraps with Kitster.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Xan sighed, “So when he asked to teach Kitster some tricks, I couldn’t say no. Verdi’s been offering some quick and dirty techniques to share too. Hopefully it’ll help keep him safe.”

“Hopefully,” Shmi echoed, before they both returned to watching Anakin and his friend.

 

_Dathomir (Month 15, Training Visit 21)_

“Thoughts, _sosoki_?”

“They’re creepy,” Anakin replied promptly, watching the delegation from the neighboring band of Nightsisters leave.

“Indeed,” Helshai sighed, “But needs must. We could fight them off but not without heavy losses. Might as well get along and trade for as long as we can.”

“They tasted weird,” Anakin confided, having used his flourishing Force-sensing on the whole group. Helshai frowned at him, to which he said, “I know you said not to, but I just let it sort of float to me, I didn’t actively probe them. So it wasn’t anything specific it was more a general group flavor. Blood was the overall bit.”

Helshai sighed, “Still not a good idea, _sosoki_. But it’s done. Blood is probably a general _Riy-tha_ flavor, so keep that in mind if you ever find it again. Stay away from them unless you absolutely have to.”

“Yes _Sea-shi_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May flesh these out one day, but I want to get to Phantom Menace, so this is just to let you get an idea of the sort of things the boys have been up to!


	4. The Phantom Menace: Some meetings have to happen

Anakin fiddled with the droid easily, sitting on his old stool. Watto had been his master and he didn’t have any lingering affection for the little troll, but he paid honestly for his repair work and he wanted to earn as much as possible to free his mom earlier. Xan didn’t like taking him anywhere near the people he did business with on Tatooine anyway, so he had a fair number of chances to earn some extra credit with the dealer. Besides, with Verdi visiting his kids on Correllia for a couple of weeks, there really wasn’t anyone else to bother on this particular trip.

He looked up curiously when the newcomers entered. Obviously off-worlders, he quickly eyed their clothes and possessions. The girl was a wealthy one, pretty too. They’d have to be careful she didn’t get snatched, but the two others could be bodyguards.

Watto came around front to deal with them, giving Anakin a hard look since he had stopped working. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the droid. Watto didn’t dare do anything to him, but there was no need for the Toydarian to hire him for repair work, especially since he planned on buying his last slave off him, so he’d avoid antagonizing him.

Sneaking glances at the girl out of the corner of his eye, he upped his previous assessment. She wasn’t just pretty, she was _beautiful_. Why did he have to be wearing his old Tatooine clothes? He wasn’t even wearing the nice boots he’d gotten at their last port, they were too hot.

_Okay, be calm, be cool. Don’t let her know you’re staring. You’ve got this Skywalker—leave a good impression, be calm don’t oh-suns-she’slookingatmewhatdoI—_

“Are you an angel?” he heard himself ask her, when the girl caught him sneaking glances.

“What?” she asked, bemused. Anakin just thanked the Force she hadn’t laughed at him and plowed forward, knowing sticking to his story would be essential.

“I hear the other spacers talking about them sometime,” he gave a casual shrug, _good, let her know you’re not just a backwater hick,_ “They’re supposed to live on the ice moons of Illium, be the prettiest creatures in the universe. Thought you might be one.”

“What a funny little boy,” she laughed, and he almost sighed at the sound. Maybe she was an angel, even if he’d never _really_ heard of them before. No human could laugh like that.

Then her comment caught up with him and he nearly scowled, _little_ boy? Damn it he was nine! How old was she, sixteen?

Okay, when he thought of it like that he did sound rather pathetic. This was salvageable though, he traveled a lot, maybe he could get a home planet out of her, come back in a few years and a growth spurt and say, “Hey angel! It’s been a while.”

Yeah, and he could bring some exotic token of his travels, tell her stories of all the crazy places he’d been and the wild times the captain had—never let him participate in. Well in a few years he’d have pulled some jobs, so just leave a good first impression so she can think, _wow, he grew up fine!_

Plan solid. Play it cool, good first impression. No need to stand for the little boy comment though.

Rolling his eyes, he grumbled, “I’m not _little_. I’m nine!” he nearly winced at how that sounded. _Way to sound juvenile kiddo_ , Xan’s voice laughed in his mind.

“Well that’s not so little,” she admitted, though he bet she was just humoring him.

“So why are you here? Ship broke down? What kind?” Anakin asked, desperate to distract her from his age. Get him talking about ships and he could show competence. That was desirable, right? Maybe he could help—yeah, he’d help get her off Tatooine!

“Our hyperdrive was damaged,” the angel replied, “We need to get to Coruscant as fast as possible so we’re hoping that we can find the part we need here.”

“Watto’s got the largest stock of all the junkyards in Mos Espa, if he doesn’t have it he’ll know who does, for a few creds,” Anakin assured her, before hesitating and looking at her worriedly, “Coruscant—you’re a Republic ship, aren’t you? You’re not going to try and pay in _Republic_ credits!”

“What else would we pay in?” she asked, seeming honestly confused. Anakin was tempted to smack his face. Instead he just sighed and went to explain, but the alien she was traveling with chose that exact moment to hit one of the mining droids wrong and thrashing everywhere as it tried to shut it down, crashing into displays Anakin had spent earlier today on.

“Smack it on the nose!” he cried, desperate to salvage his hard work but by the time it had listened the damage was done and he stared at the scattered pieces on the ground.

“Boy!” Watto shouted warningly from out in the back.

“We’re fine!” Anakin called back, returning to muttering under his breath in mixed Hutteese and Dathomiri curses.

“Here let us help,” the angel said hastily, the alien nodding, ear flap things flopping around as he babbled, “Mesa _soooo_ sorry!”

“Yeah, great, how bout you stand there, while Angel and I pick this up. Tell me about yourself. What planet are you from, why Coruscant, what’s the rush? Just—don’t touch that! Don’t touch anything, okay?” Anakin could have wept with relief when the disaster zone stopped from touching an open service panel. Electrocution and the subsequent destruction would be even worse!

“I’m Anakin, by the way,” he said as they started picking up, only half-listening to the alien, apparently a Gungan called Jar-Jar, start chattering away. “I could just call you Angel this whole time, but do you have a name you’d prefer?”

“I’m Padme`,” she smiled at him and _actually winked_ , “I like Angel though, so feel free to keep it up.”

“Great!” Anakin beamed, over the metaphorical moon with his success in talking to her. The faux pas of the angel comment had become a pet name! The Force was with him!

“So you’re not going to try and pay with republic credits, are you? No one takes them out here,” Anakin said worriedly, making a mental note that they were from Naboo. Perfect. Planet and a fairly uncommon name, he might actually be able to put his plan into action.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, “Obi-Wan is handling that part. I’m just here on orders of my queen.”

“Your queen sent you out here into this sun-baked hellhole?” Anakin raised an eyebrow as he looked over at her, “Why are you still working for her? Nice girl like you might not make it _back_ to your ship. ‘Specially if you just have those two as protection and pay in republic credits. Gotta say, don’t know about the Obi-Wan guy, but Jar-Jar, not the most impressive of bodyguards.”

“Oh no, he’s not my bodyguard!” she explained hastily, “Jar-Jar is a guest of the queen.”

“So this Obi-Wan guy has to guard _both_ of you?” Anakin shook his head, imagining all Xanfrei’s troublesome client stories multiplied by six and Uncle J’s complaints about bodyguard jobs. “He’s gotta be a slave. No way would a freeman agree to that, no offense Angel,” he assured her hastily. No, anyone would love to be _her_ bodyguard. It was Jar Jar he wasn’t so sure about.

“A slave? Slavery has been outlawed for decades!” Padme` at least had the sense to keep her voice down. Anakin bewailed his luck, Naboo must be a corewards planet. Blast. Xanfrei would never buy him just ‘stumbling upon’ a job there now.

“In the Republic, sure,” Anakin nodded, pointing out where she needed to put her armful of parts. “Out here? No one cares about us.”

“Are… are you…?” Padme` looked like she didn’t know what to think, she looked really awkward asking.

“Used to be,” Anakin said blithely. It wasn’t a problem, it was a fact of life. No need to get offended or something. “Cap’n Xan bought me a while ago and freed me. I’m here visiting my mom, Watto owns her and if I work in the shop he pays me some money I can save to buy her freedom.”

“That’s…that’s horrible,” Padme` looked really horrified. Anakin felt a surge of affection at that look—he wanted to make sure there was always something that could make her look like that, since it meant he had protected her successfully.

Assuming he ever saw her again. But the knowledge that they were paying with Republic credits meant he had a bit of an advantage to this enterprise. Unless the Obi-Wan guy was super prepared and carried large sums of all accepted currency. Commendable, in an asking-to-be-mugged way, but he really hoped not in this case. He had to impress Angel!

“Padme`? Jar Jar? Time to go,” judging by the crease between the new arrival’s brows the negotiations hadn’t gone well. Watto was hovering and grumbling about fools who didn’t know the big galaxy.

Anakin doubted that, this customer was no ill-traveled Core brat. The ripples this guy sent out in the Force weren’t the normal shadowed things of regular beings. He was Force sensitive, almost like Xan, but without that crackly cocao-liquer flavor Xan had. This one was more like… firelight and fresh spring water.

Judging by the sharp look the man sent his way when Anakin reached out to get a better sense of his Force presence, he was also trained or at least a little more aware of what his hunches were. Whoops. Well, as Verdi would have coached him, all or nothing.

“Watto, how much is the part they need?” he asked in Hutteese. Obi-Wan paid attention but kept his visible focus on Padme` who was explaining who the random kid was. Anakin would bet he at least understood basic Hutteese, even if he didn’t speak it. Good move, it would let him hear things.

“2500, it’s a hyperdrive coil for a Nubian,” the dealer said without his asking for elaboration. Watto was a business man after all, if Anakin could work out some way he would get rid of an otherwise hard to sell part on a profit he would be all for it.

Anakin raised an eyebrow. That was remarkably low for the rarity of the part and Watto grimaced, “That spacer trash can bargain, I’ll give him that. Doesn’t do him much good with no good coin though.”

“Coin I think I can take care of,” Anakin mused, “I’ll talk to the Captain, we’re not lifting off till tomorrow so don’t go selling it.”

“Because Nubian hyperdrive coils are hot items out here. Go boy, you finished with the droid?”

“Good as I can get it,” Anakin assured him, “50, as agreed?”

Watto handed over the coins grudgingly, knowing he could trust Anakin’s work at least. Anakin accepted it and put them in his pouch before turning to the waiting trio. The man, he was pretty young, no more than 20 on the outside, raised an eyebrow at Anakin before saying in Basic, “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. Padme` tells me you are Anakin?”

“Anakin Skywalker-Jyhn. Good to meet you. My ship goes into Republic space, we could trade you the credits for a small fee, negotiated with my captain of course,” Anakin explained bluntly, returning the slight bow, accustomed to some different greeting practices. He may not have been to _too_ many planets in the near two years he’d been with Xan and Verdi, but that was a lesson you had to learn fast to be a decent trader.

“Can you take us to your Captain then?” the man showed no disbelief at a nine-year-old with deal offering powers. It had been a problem on other places but looking at this group Anakin would bet they had seen far weirder things than a nine-year-old ship hand.

“Of course, please, follow me,” Anakin grabbed his rucksack, a recycled emergency med-kit, and tossed a wave over his shoulder at Watto, leading the way out of the small shop. “Err… Angel? Could you keep an eye on Jar-Jar?” he asked lowly, spotting the alien start to eye the market stalls. Sure, he could assume the being had decent coin and was willing to buy any food which caught his eye, but he was not willing to risk it.

Obi-Wan had been following in Padme`’s wake, keeping an eye on their surroundings, and caught Anakin’s comment. With a put upon grumble, he turned to bark, “Jar-Jar! Keep up!”

“Mesa coming!” the Gungan squawked, hustling to stay close to Obi-Wan, who had a narrow eyed look Anakin recognized as the beginnings of a stress headache from Xan. He was tempted to snicker, but instead kept it to a sympathetic mouth twitch. No collar, so he wasn’t a slave, but the poor man couldn’t have known what he was signing on for with Jar-Jar or he never would have agreed. Not as a freeman.

They made it back to the Skywalker home fairly quickly and Anakin grinned as he burst through the door, “Mom! I’m home!”

“With friends I see,” she replied, coming out from the kitchen and wiping her hands on a towel before hugging him quickly. Anakin hurtled to Xan as the captain stood from his place at the table with a datapad and some flimsy spread out before him, leaping at him and Xan caught him, laughing as he commented, “Indeed. Who have you dragged in your wake this time Ani?”

“Captain Jyhn, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padme` and Jar-Jar. They broke down on the outskirts and need a part. Watto has it but they only have Republic credits.”

“I have enough local currency to enter a gambling den, but Anakin mentioned you might be willing to convert our money for a fee and that sounded more promising than hoping for luck,” Kenobi explained dryly. Shmi nodded firmly in approval, ushering them to take seats at the table, Xan returning to his own seat and setting Anakin down on the seat next to him.

Padme` remained standing and followed Shmi into the kitchen, insisting she should help. Shmi humored her and put her to work, though it was doubtful she’d worked in a similar styled kitchen before.

“A sensible plan, though I doubt a Jedi would be relying upon luck alone,” Xan quirked a brow at the teen across the table and Anakin slapped his forehead.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” he groused.

Obi-Wan smiled slightly, “So you were actively Force sensing. I had wondered.”

“Found him in that junk shop nearly two years ago, couldn’t leave him there,” Xan said, “Brought him to the people who trained me. He’s gotten good.”

“Very good, very few initiates of a similar age can use it so efficiently. Might want to work on subtlety though,” Obi-Wan suggested, small smile now gone. “I bargained Watto down to 2500 credits. The exchange rate is 2 to 1, will 1400 Republic credits be sufficient?”

“Please tell me that’s not how you bargained with Watto!” Anakin demanded, aghast at the obscene commission Obi-Wan was offering.

“No, but you are doing us a favor and we need to get out of here quickly, our mission is urgent,” Obi-Wan explained, keeping his attention on Xan who was watching him speculatively.

“I’ll cut the price to 1300,” Xan said, “If you explain some basic Jedi philosophy to Anakin.”

“Not you as well?” Obi-Wan asked curiously, relaxing now that his deal had been accepted, “I didn’t really notice until you mentioned it, you have an interesting shield technique, but you have a distinct presence in the Force.”

“It tastes like choco-liquer, right? He keeps saying I can’t know what I’m talking about!” Anakin demanded, pouting at Xan who chuckled and ruffled his short-cropped hair.

“I don’t… you can taste the Force presence of people?” Obi-Wan asked, interest gleaming in his eyes.

“Can’t everyone?” Anakin asked nervously, shrinking away from the intent look on the Jedi’s face.

“I know I can’t,” Obi-Wan admitted, losing some of the zeal when he recognized how it was putting Anakin off. “I agree to the terms, but could we get the part now so as soon as my explanation is finished we can depart?”

Xan shook his head, “Sandstorm’s coming up. Got the alert right before you came in. You won’t be going anywhere tonight.”

“I had best let my Master know.”

“I thought he was a Jedi?” Anakin asked lowly after Obi-Wan excused himself to call the ship and let them know they would be delayed.

“It’s a term of respect for a teacher. He’s a Padawan learner, judging by the braid. By age he’s probably close to promotion though.”

“Huh,” Anakin frowned, “I don’t like it. Calling someone Master.”

“Course you don’t,” Xan said gruffly, ruffling his hair again, “I don’t like it either. But he’s used to it and probably doesn’t think twice. Now help me go through these maintenance logs, space knows you like adding little things you forget to record.”

===***===pagebreak===***===

“Master Qui-Gon?” he spoke into the unit quietly, standing at the far end of the small home’s living quarters. He wanted to at least have some privacy for this conversation, because this mission had been going downhill from the start.

“Obi-Wan, good to hear from you. How has the mission gone?” his master’s relaxed tone instantly put him at ease.

“Reasonably well. We have found the part we need and a means to pay for it, but the sandstorm means we will not be able to return until tomorrow,” Obi-Wan summarized, getting the essentials through before he delved into the elaboration bit.

“Due to the distance from Republic space, Republic credits are no good here. I had enough money to enter a gambling den and probably win the requisite funds, but that ended up not being necessary. At the shop there was a boy repairing a droid, he is a crewmember on a ship which makes runs into Republic space so brought us to his Captain to negotiate a currency exchange agreement. The deal is acceptable and well within the funds accorded to us for this mission,” Obi-Wan was careful to not give out hard numbers. While his master might not care if he had to use some extra for…extraneous purposes, the Queen and her people might not see matters the same way.

Thankfully, he had the Queen here so it would be relatively easy to judge her potential reaction before he was committed, but still.

“Much safer than the gambling-den plan,” Qui-Gon agreed. “Anything else?”

“Nothing related to the mission in particular,” Obi-Wan hedged, turning the conversation around quickly with a teasing tone, “How’s your knee, old man?”

“Oh shut up, and no informing the Council we agreed!” Qui-Gon grumbled half-heartedly. He had twisted his knee while deflecting blaster fire on Naboo, a novice mistake that Obi-Wan couldn’t help but poke fun at. He couldn’t wait to tell Master Wi—ah, that is, he couldn’t wait to update his Master’s good friend Mace on his latest mission.

“What else besides the mission, we have time,” Qui-Gon urged, knowing very well there was something else that was bothering him.

“The boy we met, he’s very Force sensitive,” Obi-Wan said slowly, “When I first met him I felt him reaching out with the Force to get a sense of me.”

“That is… very advanced. He has no training?”

“No he has some—Master, his Captain’s name is _Jinn_. The resemblance is also quite uncanny,” Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed, “I know it hasn’t been proven Force sensitivity runs in families, but this coincidence is a bit too much.”

“The Captain is also Force sensitive?”

“Yes, trained and very good. His shielding had me completely fooled until he deliberately pointed it out. Nothing like Xanatos master, they’re both firmly in the Light, from what I have sensed,” Obi-Wan assured him, letting his gaze flick over to where the pair were going over maintenance logs, Anakin’s gestures implying some grand story was being told.

“Shielding? That is fascinating,” Qui-Gon murmured, obviously starting to work out how such a thing could be done.

“Something else odd,” Obi-Wan frowned, “Anakin claims he gets tastes, when he feels the Force sensations of others. When I admitted to being able to sense Captain Jinn, he asked me if I thought he tasted like choco-liquer.”

“The Force works in mysterious ways, maybe it is simply the way the Force chooses to be detected by him. I really do wish to meet this pair. It is a pity this mission is so complicated already,” Qui-Gon sighed.

“The hyperdrive will take some time to install, I can outline the basic risks and ask them to accompany us back to the ship for a quick visit. Captain Jinn seems interested in Jedi philosophy, he cut the conversion rate after I agreed to discuss some basics with Anakin, though I’m sure he’ll be listening in,” Obi-Wan offered, also wanted to introduce the two to his Master. There was something _important_ about the pair. Something _familiar_ and it was bothering him. Maybe his Master would have more insight.

“Hmm… make sure to outline all the risks, if the handmaiden agrees of course,” the emphasis he placed on the word _handmaiden_ gave away his amusement at the ruse. Obi-Wan really wished he wouldn’t, it was giving him a headache to be responsible for a monarch’s safety when she thought he didn’t know how important she was.

“I will Master. I will call you once we are on our way,” Obi-Wan smiled slightly, “May the Force be with you.”

“And with you Padawan. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Turning off the comm-unit, he returned to the table. When the pair looked up at him he nodded and said, “Is there anything in particular you want me to discuss on our philosophy?”

Though he tried to address the question to Anakin, who the bargain had been made for, he couldn’t help but cut his gaze to the Captain, who really had an uncanny resemblance to his Master. It was the nose, he thought, that really sold it. There were other similarities, but could have been brushed aside as coincidence if not for the nose. He itched to ask, but that would be intolerably rude and he needed these people cooperating, not offended over personal questions.

“The passions/emotions debate of course!” Anakin grinned, “And the attachment thing, but I sort of get that, depending on the definition of attachment. Cuz I love my family. No way am I gonna be convinced that’s the Dark Side.”

“Of course it’s not,” Obi-Wan replied firmly, “That is _not_ what the Code means. It can be open for interpretation but that is ridiculous. It’s the consequences of it. If someone were to hurt your mother badly, would you respond in rage and seek vengeance? If you were afraid your mother was going to be hurt, how far would you go to keep those fears from being realized? When would it be enough? That’s the concern of attachment and love for a Jedi, at the most basic level.”

Anakin then dove into more questions, dragging the discussion into some complicated hypothetical scenarios and metaphysical questions which Obi-Wan was _itching_ to ask about the origins of. No way did an ordinary nine-year-old come up with all of those, and judging by the concentration this conversation was receiving from the Captain, he had a fair guess as to who exactly was behind some of them.

The meal made by Shmi and Padme` went smoothly and tasted fine, Jar-Jar managing to avoid making a complete nuisance of himself, and the philosophical discussion getting the whole table involved by the time Shmi called an end to it, as it was getting late and they needed to get going in the morning, sandstorm permitting.

Obi-Wan volunteered to handle clean-up, feeling vaguely ashamed he had let Padme` and Shmi do all the work for the meal. The Captain offered his help and Shmi acquiesced easily, apparently used to that division of labor when they visited. Instead she ushered the other three about, managing all of them with an ease which spoke of long experience with managing people.

“Some of those questions seemed a touch sophisticated for a nine-year-old,” Obi-Wan commented dryly as he stacked newly sanitized plates.

Xanfrei didn’t even pause as he packed away left-overs, saying, “I like to get my son to think things through. Pose difficult questions. He’s just used you as a source in an essay.”

“I’ve been used for worse,” Obi-Wan chuckled, “Do _you_ have any questions for me?”

“Do you regret it?” the Captain finally asked after a few moments silence. “Being able to sense the Force? Have you ever just… _not_ wanted to anymore?”

Obi-Wan looked over at the man thoughtfully. It was an interesting question in that it was seldom asked. For many Jedi, it wasn’t worth considering. There wasn’t anything they could do about it, they sensed the Force. They had to deal with what that meant. For non-Jedi, the idea of _not_ wanting to be able to use the Force to perform miraculous feats was insane, because they seldom thought of the other things that came with the miraculous feats bit.

For non-Jedi Force users though, it was a real question. For Obi-Wan, it was definitely a real question.

“Yes,” he said simply, before continuing, knowing the simple yes-no answer wouldn’t be satisfactory. “A few times. Once when I was on a planet torn by civil war. When you can feel your friends dying and crushing each other for what amounts to no reason at all, the Force is a burden of almost intolerable weight. When I have been on dangerous missions and felt my Master was in danger and I could do nothing, it seems more merciful to have no idea something is about to go terribly wrong.”

Since it was a rather personal question, Obi-Wan didn’t feel he was overstepping the bounds of the conversation when he decided to ask his own. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you receive training?”

“I’m from a planet with a strong history of Force usage,” Xanfrei explained. “The Jedi haven’t come near the planet for years, not on a recruiting mission for much longer. My mother and her witches trained me, though I taught myself a few tricks.”

They had finished cleaning up and Obi-Wan knew he would need to broach this subject now. There wouldn’t be a better opening for it in all likelihood.

“I’ve never heard of someone tasting the Force,” he said bluntly, Xanfrei turning to face him with an inscrutable look on his face. “I would like to introduce Anakin to my Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, and have a feeling a few of Anakin’s questions would be better answered by him. To that end I know installing the hyperdrive part will take some time, so if it would be acceptable I would suggest Anakin accompanying us to the ship with the part until it is time for us to leave, and I will escort him back.”

The intent way the Captain examined him, leaving him the impression he had just been thoroughly inspected body and soul, reminded him vividly of his Master’s own powerful gazes. He added it to his own mental file on the connection between the two. Even if the Council and the Code forbade attachment, it would be interesting to know if Force sensitivity really did run in families.

Also, if the degree of relationship he suspected was true, there _had_ to be a good story in there! He knew he hadn’t imagined the flicker of recognition at his Master’s name, very intentionally mentioned, so he felt confident that at least _this_ end of the mystery knew the nature of their connection.

“There is some risk,” Xanfrei said calmly, “What is it?”

“I cannot give exact details, but we are escorting a delegation from Naboo to Coruscant for an appeal to the Senate,” Obi-Wan wouldn’t divulge details, but this much he was sure would be fine.

“Hmm. Yes. I heard about the blockade,” the Captain nodded calmly, “Very well. I will ask Anakin. I doubt he will refuse. No need to escort him back, simply comm me and I will come and get him. He has a comm-link.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Captain.”

“Oh no, thank you Padawan Kenobi, Anakin will be able to babble _your_ ear off tomorrow rather than mine,” Xanfrei’s sly smile was another echo of his master’s, but Obi-Wan shoved questions aside once again. He could only hope this expedition tomorrow got some answers, or he would be very annoyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nervous about this chapter-it's where things actually start moving along! Let me know what you think!


	5. The Phantom Menace: To Coruscant!

Anakin whooped gleefully when Xan told him of Obi-Wan’s offer and nearly tackled the Padawan in a hug. He ignored the hug’s awkward return and grabbed his field bag, making sure he had his comm unit and a change of clothes. He was still wearing his Tatooine gear but pulled on his nicer boots for the walk, even if it would be pretty hot.

Watto had been quite pleased with their return and the purchase of the part, Obi-Wan carrying it as they headed back for the ship. Anakin had to jog a bit to keep up, walking abreast of Angel and chattering happily about Naboo, Nubian ships and repairs and his own travels. Obi-Wan didn’t say much, focused on keeping Jar-Jar out of trouble and leading the way.

When they topped a dune and Anakin caught sight of the ship, he paused, staring at the gleaming silver vessel in awe. “Beautiful,” he breathed, Padme` laughing and saying, “It is, isn’t it?”

“Keep up you two!” Obi-Wan called over his shoulder, “It’s even more beautiful—and _cool_ —inside!”

“A valid point,” Padme` laughed, Anakin and her both jogging to catch up with the other two of their party.

They had just done so when Anakin felt a surge of malevolent power in the Force, Obi-Wan apparently detecting the same thing because he shouted, “DOWN!” knocking Jar-Jar over as he said it.

Anakin grabbed Padme`’s arm and they both hit the sand, Anakin yelping at the heat washing over his back from the repulsor engine of the bike which flew right over him. The hyperdrive component dropped in the sand and Obi-Wan lunged forward, outer robe discarded and lightsaber crashing against a red-bladed dual saber.

 _Shitshitshitshit_ , Anakin scrambled forward and grabbed the part, wrapping it in Obi-Wan’s robe. “Come _on_ Jar-Jar, Angel!” he shouted, kicking Jar-Jar semi-gently to get the alien moving. Padme` was already up, blaster in hand as she watched the fight. Anakin grabbed her arm and dragged her after him, knowing Obi-Wan would need all his concentration on the fight he was in, not on protecting his charges. Jar-Jar at least was already running for the ship’s boarding ramp.

They got to the ramp without incident, Anakin shouting, “Take-off! Take-off!” as soon as he and Angel were aboard, keeping the part in his arms. Apparently someone heard him and agreed, because the ship lifted off immediately and flew closer to Obi-Wan’s flurried saber battle, the Jedi managing to push the attacker back long enough to jump safely aboard the closing ramp.

As soon as the ramp was shut completely, he snapped off his lightsaber and clipped it to his belt, collapsing onto the floor, panting for breath. “That, was unexpected,” he commented, “Everyone okay?”

“Yeah, we’re here, part’s good too,” Anakin replied, unwrapping the part and handing it to the mechanic who approached him. He handed the robe to Obi-Wan, who accepted it gratefully, “Thank you Anakin.”

“No worries. Thanks for saving our butts. I’m guessing you can’t drop me off in Mos Espa now.”

“…Oh _Sithspit_ ,” Obi-Wan groaned, pulling himself to his feet as an older man rounded the corner, walking briskly, though carefully, over to them.

“I had best report to the Queen. I’ll see you later Ani, Obi-Wan,” Padme` said, hurrying down the corridor.

“Don’t worry about it,” Anakin assured him, “I’ll call Xan and he’ll be fine with it. Might ask for fuel re-imbursement or something… Coruscant, right?”

Obi-Wan nodded tiredly, turning to the older man and starting to explain the encounter. Anakin pulled his comm out of his bag and flicked it on, calling Xan.

“Hey kiddo, done already?” Xan replied to his hail, surprise in his voice.

“No. Change of plans, Cap’n. We were attacked on the way to the ship, Zabrak, felt like a Nightsister, tasted like blood and screams. It’s not safe to drop me off, we’re already heading out of atmo. Going to Coruscant.”

“Right. Shit. Think you can stay with the Naboo delegation till we get there? I need to pick up Verdi before heading over to you.”

“You can stay in the Jedi Temple,” Obi-Wan said firmly. Anakin nodded and relayed that to Xan, who replied, “Good. Stay safe kiddo.”

“You’re the one on a planet with a _Nightsister_ , you stay safe!” Anakin shot back worriedly, “ _Liy-tha, fatre.”_

“ _Liy-tha, soki_.”

Anakin cut the call and replaced the comm back in his pocket, touching the his japor snippet and hoping for his father’s safety. Obi-Wan rested a hand on his shoulder gently and Anakin looked up at him, surprised to see the clear sympathy on the young Jedi’s face. Obi-Wan had struck him as a bit of a tight-wad, super-controlled guy to be honest, but apparently he just took a bit to warm up to you.

“Anakin, let me introduce you to my Master, Qui-Gon Jinn,” Obi-Wan introduced the older man standing next to him. “Master, this is Anakin Skywalker-Jyhn.”

“We have the same last name!” Anakin grinned up at the man, who definitely resembled his dad and, with the same name _fa-Matre_ Helshai had mentioned, the conclusion was obvious. A mischievous light came to his eyes as he asked, “Can I call you Gramps?”

Qui-Gon spluttered slightly, Obi-Wan snickering before the Jedi Master sighed, rolling his eyes indulgently as he said, “All right young one. I suppose. Thank you for getting the handmaiden and Jar-Jar aboard, along with the part that got us into this mess to begin with.”

Obi-Wan echoed the thanks, before saying, “Let’s find a bunk for you—you mind sharing?”

“No, not at all,” Anakin replied happily. “Hey, what was that guy? The one who attacked us? He tasted gross.”

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan exchanged worried looks, silently communicating before Obi-Wan turned back to Anakin, expression grim as he said, “I’m not sure Anakin. I’m really not sure.”

===***===pagebreak===***===

Anakin was sprawled on the cot which had been set up in the Jedi’s quarters for him, scrolling through news reports on a datapad he had borrowed. He _had_ been looking for news of the blockade on Naboo he had heard about, from both Xan and the delegation he was with, but hadn’t found much of anything. The only hints were the announcements from pleasure-liners that all stops on Naboo were temporarily suspended due to ‘local conflict’.

So now he was reading up on commerce, wanting to see if there were any steals coming up he could suggest to Xan when they got to Coruscant. It’d be a shame to come to the city-planet and not get anything out of it besides the visit itself.

The door slid open and he looked up, smiling brightly at Angel. “Hey Angel!” he chirped, sitting up on the bed. “What brings you here?”

“Wondering if you wanted to accompany me to dinner. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are heading there themselves,” she explained, Anakin shutting off the datapad and bounding over to her, “Count me in!” he grinned.

It was the second day super-luminal and he was wearing the change of clothes he’d brought, glad he hadn’t bothered unpacking his ‘unexpected events’ kit before coming with them. Change of clothes, a comm link, a knife, anti-septic wipes, bandaging, some credits and ration bars. His _fatre_ was paranoid, but it came in handy.

“Hey Obi-Wan! Gramps!” Anakin chirped as he walked past their claimed table to get his food. Obi-Wan smiled and nodded in greeting, Qui-Gon grumbling half-heartedly before sending a smile his way. Anakin had debated informing the man that it wasn’t just because he was an older man ‘related’ to him, but wasn’t sure it was his place to do so. He’d send Xan a message once they were on Coruscant.

“So how was your research Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked once he and Angel had sat down with the Jedi.

“Initially, unsuccessful. But from the looks of it, our ship’s stores have some exotics we can sell for a tidy profit on Coruscant so Xan should be pretty content with that,” Anakin replied, scooping up a fork-full of the unidentified protein dish. Not as good as Verdi’s, even if it was higher quality space fare.

“That’s good,” Obi-Wan echoed.

“Indeed,” Qui-Gon said, “Now Anakin, Obi-Wan mentioned you have some training in the Force. Would you like to join us for meditation this evening?”

Anakin perked up, “That’d be great!” he smiled. Meditation wasn’t exactly his _favorite_ thing, but these were Jedi! And Xan would love to know if there were any differences in their methods.

The rest of their trip passed similarly, Anakin tagging along with Obi-Wan most of the day, the teen happy to chat mechanics with him, meditating with the Jedi and eating with them and Angel. After five more days travel, they arrived at Coruscant.

Anakin had cleaned his clothes as best he could, double and triple checking his pack so he didn’t forget anything, and spending their descent meditating and carefully checking his shields. He wasn’t as good as Xan, to make his presence completely invisible, but he could at least keep his connection damped from other’s senses. He didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself after all; Obi-Wan had already given him that weird look when he talked about tasting people in the Force.

He didn’t realize that his shielding weakened when he wasn’t focused on it, and meditating with the Jedi initially hadn’t let him focus on it at all, so Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had both felt his blazing presence in the Force, stunned at his strong connection.

Anakin gathered his bag once he had built up his shields as much as possible, before heading to the exit, stepping in beside Obi-Wan. The Padawan looked down and offered him a small smile before returning his focus to the lowering ramp. Anakin scanned the faces of the handmaidens for Angel and didn’t see her. He frowned slightly and was tempted to reach out with the Force to find her, but he had just spent that time building up his shields and he wasn’t good at reaching out _and_ shielding, so he’d just have to find her later.

“Where are we going?” Anakin asked quietly after they were presented to the politicians greeting them. He had hastily mimicked Obi-Wan’s bow and followed in his wake, not wanting to lose his guide.

“We’re taking a speeder to the Jedi Temple,” Obi-Wan informed him quietly, leading the way to the speeder and ushering him into the backseat after Qui-Gon. The driver apparently already knew where to take them, merging with traffic as soon as the door was secure.

Anakin wished he had about ten more eyes, craning his head round to look at all the speeders, the swoop-bikes, the balconies, the huge buildings and mad traffic lanes. “Wow,” he said quietly, staring at the overloaded hover-bus they whipped around. “There’s so _many_ people!”

“Population of trillions,” Obi-Wan agreed, “That’s the Museum complex—history, science, tech, all sorts of things. And over there is the military museum, that’s the Senate building, where Padme` and the Queen are heading, and that—that is the Jedi Temple.”

Anakin looked obediently at all the things Obi-Wan pointed out, but his gaze was arrested on the Jedi-Temple. He was sure it was his imagination, but it seemed like the building was _glowing_. He could feel the peace and tranquility from here, and couldn’t wait to get inside. It must be amazing! So many Force-sensitives in one place! All trained!

“Wow,” he repeated emphatically, “And I get to _stay_ there?”

“Well it is sort of my fault that you’re stuck with us,” Obi-Wan said ruefully, “Only fair.”

“Valid,” Anakin grinned. “But still _awesome_! _Sea-shi_ is going to be so jealous!”

“ _Sea-shi_?” Obi-Wan echoed curiously as the driver headed to park.

“My teacher, she’s actually my _fa-Matre,_ but I call her _Sea-shi_ too. That means teacher,” Anakin explained.

“So _fa-Matre_ means… father’s mother? Grandmother?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Yeah, exactly!” Anakin grinned, Qui-Gon watching the two of them fondly. “It’s a derivative of Paecian.”

“So when you called the Captain _Fatre_..”

“Yeah, he adopted me, so he’s my dad now,” Anakin bobbed his head, scrambling out of the speeder to follow along with Obi-Wan again.

“You take Anakin to get some food and settle him in our quarters, I will report to the Council,” Qui-Gon said, Obi-Wan nodding agreeably and leading Anakin to the lifts, “Come on Anakin, this way.”

“So cool!” Anakin breathed, looking around at all the speeders of various types parked in the hangar, hands itching to get to work on some of them.

Obi-Wan just gave him a small grin, not letting him stop though. He probably knew Anakin would never actually get moving again. He kept having to urge Anakin along on the way to their quarters, Anakin wanting to stop and drool over just about everything. The gardens they passed really caught his attention, Anakin staring at the biosphere longingly before chasing after Obi-Wan. “Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan! Can I check out the gardens sometime?”

“Let’s get to where you’ll be sleeping first Anakin! Then I’ll show you a map and we can wander around,” Obi-Wan chuckled, “I’ll show you the gardens, sure.”

“Great!” Anakin couldn’t stop smiling, the Temple’s atmosphere so uplifting, so calm and peaceful, that he couldn’t help it. He was about ready to explode with glee. He was in the _Jedi Temple!_

He barely dumped his bag by the couch in Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s quarters before dragging Obi-Wan out again, insistent that he be shown _absolutely everything_. Though food would be appreciated first.

Agreeing, Obi-Wan led the way to the cafeteria and while they ate answered some of the million-and-one questions Anakin had. Before they were able to continue their tour though, another Jedi approached them and said, “Padawan Kenobi? The Council wishes to speak with you.”

“Oh, all right. I’ll be right there,” Obi-Wan replied, quickly gathering his plates. Anakin did the same and doggedly followed after him, figuring he could just wait outside. Besides—it was the Jedi Council, that would be cool to see, even from outside the room!

To his surprise, when he went to sit down in one of the chairs near the Council-room’s door, the Jedi standing at the door shook her head with a smile, “The Council wishes to speak to both of you.”

“Me?” Anakin squeaked, paling, “But-but- I smell!”

Obi-Wan burst out laughing, the Jedi at the door giggling along with him. “Don’t worry about it Anakin, I’m sure they can ignore it. Come on,” Obi-Wan snickered, ushering Anakin ahead of him but letting him fall in behind once they entered the room.

Anakin again echoed Obi-Wan’s bow, standing at his right while Qui-Gon was on his left. Anakin risked a glance around the room, amazed by the number of species represented in the council. This truly was a _Galactic_ order. So cool! He hesitantly thinned his shields, wanting to see what kind of Force presences were on the Council, especially the Grand Master Obi-Wan was addressing.

Carefully reining in his usual wave, he reached out to prod at the signature of the guy next to the Grand Master. He didn’t want to insult the Grand Master of the Jedi if at all possible, and besides, he was talking to Obi-Wan. _Careful, ca…re…ful… Ack!_

Anakin got a rush of the man’s Force presence (mint-tea and…sunfruit?) but he also got a sharp look and stiffened spine from his target. Anakin immediately snapped up his walls and panicked, Obi-Wan pausing his explanation of the attack and looking over at Anakin, who immediately bowed at the waist and babbled, “Sorry! Sorry! No disrespect intended! I was trying to be careful but _Sea-shi_ says I can be as subtle as a rabid rancor! Sorry!”

“Quite alright,” the dark-skinned man said calmly, eyes still narrowed as he watched Anakin carefully, “No need to bow. It was simply, surprising. I would suggest you don’t go around doing that to everyone in the Temple without asking first. It can be..startling.”

“Yessir, Master Jedi,” Anakin said promptly, straightening from his bow and relieved he hadn’t been further scolded.

“Continue, Padawan Kenobi,” the Jedi ordered, returning his focus from Anakin to the report they were being given.

“Of course, Master Windu. As we neared the ship, I felt a surge in the Force, anger and malevolence, and ordered everyone to drop. The Force-user rushed over us on a speeder and attacked with a crimson lightsaber. I held him off while Anakin got the others to safety along with the part we had purchased. When they were aboard the ship took off and flew low. I was able to push the attacker back and jump aboard.”

“Skilled, your aggressor was?” the Grand Master, Yoda, Anakin thought, asked. Anakin could see how his grammar would get confusing in longer conversations.

“Very,” Obi-Wan said bluntly. “I doubt I would have been able to truly defeat him. He wielded a double-bladed saber with expertise and was well-versed in the Dark Side of the Force.”

“Hmmm…something to add, you have?” the Grand Master asked pointedly, looking at Anakin, who froze before nodding warily.

“Yes sir. He was a male Zabrak, red and black facial tattoos. He felt like a Nightsister—uh, a Dark Side user from my _Sea-shi_ ’s planet. A really powerful one.”

“What planet, is this?”

“Dathomir, sir.”

“Dathomir, I see. Familiar with it, I am. Thank you, young Skywalker. Continue Padawan Kenobi.”

“Once we were aboard it was agreed Anakin couldn’t be sent back, we had to get away quickly, so he called his Captain and it was agreed he would come to get him at Coruscant as soon as he could. I offered the hospitality of the Jedi Temple, seeing as it was my offer that got him stuck on board in the first place,” Obi-Wan finished.

“Given us much to think on you have,” Anakin was sure the little green guy had given him a long look at that, but didn’t want to say anything more. “Welcome, to the Temple, I hope you feel, Skywalker.”

“Yessir, thank you for your hospitality sir,” Anakin replied automatically. He hesitated, but the Grand Master just watched him calmly, apparently realizing he had something to ask. Anakin almost cringed, but steeled himself before asking, “Can I check your Force-presence, sir?”

The alien smiled, rapping his staff on the ground firmly as he said, “Indeed, young Skywalker.”

Anakin held in his sigh of relief, extending tendrils of the Force carefully towards the Grand Master and trying to keep his own presence from spilling over. A few moments work and he felt he had a solid impression of it (some weird spices he’d bet Verdi would be _all over_ and a cool breeze), before withdrawing again and bowing, “Thank you, sir.”

“Thank you, young Skywalker. Dismissed you are, speak with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon we must.” Anakin nearly beamed in relief at that, instead bowing again before walking out the door, waiting for it to shut completely before collapsing into a chair, glaring at the chuckling door guard.

“Ha, ha very funny,” Anakin groused, the blonde-woman breaking into peals of real laughter at that.

“That bad?” she asked with a small grin.

“Gah! I didn’t know what to do! What to say! And I _know_ they could smell me!” Anakin stuck his nose near his armpit and took a whiff, cringing, “I only had one change of clothes when I got stuck on the ship!”

The woman just laughed softly, shaking her head, “You don’t smell _that_ bad. I’m Jedi Knight Siri Tachi, by the way. Obi-Wan’s an old friend of mine.”

“Anakin Skywalker-Jyhn, Obi-Wan’s a new friend of mine!” Anakin grinned, “And Gramps is pretty cool too.”

“Gramps? You mean Master Qui-Gon?” the woman’s mouth was twitching again, but she kept from laughing.

“His last name’s Jinn, mine’s Jyhn, so I decided to call him Gramps,” Anakin explained, and the woman chuckled again. He was glad he kept her so entertained, it helped distract him from what the council was doing.

“So are you a full Jedi Knight? Why are you guarding the door?” he asked, deciding to keep himself distracted by interrogating his new acquaintance.

===***===pagebreak===***===

“Interesting, your new friend is,” Yoda said at the end of the briefing, where Qui-Gon concluded the creature was a Sith and their concerns were completely dismissed. Obi-Wan was hard pressed to keep from scowling and reminding them _who_ had faced trained Dark Side users most recently, but refrained. Now they had come around to discuss Anakin.

Obi-Wan felt kind of guilty about that. He had known Anakin was interesting, his Force training and strength guaranteed that, but he hadn’t mean to drag him to the attention of the Council. He had just wanted to solve the mystery of Captain Jyhn’s relation to his Master.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan agreed instead, deciding to keep the flavors thing to himself. It wasn’t any great secret, but he remembered how Anakin had shrank away from him when he expressed how odd that was, so wanted to keep the Council off his back. It was doubtful they would react any different. “He is very strong. However he is already trained and well aware he is far too old to be a Jedi, so I didn’t think offering him accommodation here would send out any false message.”

“No, right you were, to invite him,” Yoda assured, repeating again, “ _Interesting_ , your new friend is. Future alternating, between shrouded and crystal, it is. Each glimpse different.”

“He’s a walking shatter-point,” Mace agreed grimly, not finding the matter merely ‘interesting’. Obi-Wan could tell that the Master thought Anakin was dangerous—maybe not by his own actions, but by the fact his actions would have such wide reaching repercussions.

A very good thing he hadn’t mentioned the taste bit then. Hopefully Master Qui-Gon would follow his lead. Since he hadn’t said anything yet, it was looking good.

“He’s completely outside our jurisdiction,” Obi-Wan said mildly, wishing Qui-Gon would speak up but knowing his Master wanted him to manage this bit. Particularly since it was Obi-Wan’s actions which got them here. “The most I could do is ask to keep in touch, which I was planning to anyway. He’s good company.”

“Careful, you must be, in answering questions about the Jedi,” Yoda said finally, “Dismissed, you both are. Called again, you will be when the Queen’s decision is made.”

They both bowed and exited the chamber, Obi-Wan relieved to find Anakin and Siri chatting about lightsaber types. Unusual though, since that wasn’t really something you would discuss with a non-Jedi, but nothing he would comment on. Just as well she was answering them, that probably fell under the sort of thing he would need to be ‘careful’ of, according to Master Yoda.

“Well Anakin, what would you like to do next?”

“Clean up, then go clothes shopping. Call Xan, see how long till he gets here,” Anakin answered promptly, something in his statement making Siri laugh. Obi-Wan then remembered Anakin’s worry about meeting the Council and grinned, “I think we can arrange that,” Obi-Wan agreed, his Master just raising an eyebrow at his amusement and following them, Anakin turning to him with questions about the gardens, Obi-Wan having mentioned Qui-Gon sometimes helped out with maintaining them.

===***===pagebreak===***===

“—and the Jedi Temple is _so amazing!_ Dad, you have got to come here, the atmosphere is just…incredible! And the gardens—Verdi you would be so jealous, the gardens here are epic!” Anakin waved his hands around enthusiastically, trying to express the sheer awesome that was the Jedi Temple.

He calmed down and frowned though, Xan echoing the expression as he watched the recorded message. He had just gotten to Corellia after dropping off a shipment, Verdi would be getting here this evening and they’d get going to Coruscant immediately after he was aboard. The message was a day old, so he hoped nothing drastic happened. He didn’t like being so far away from his son.

“But outside the Temple…I went clothes shopping and checked out some mechanics shops a few levels down, I was totally careful and Obi-Wan recommended them, so stop worrying. Anyway, when I left the Temple the Force was…murky. I guess is the best way to describe it. I asked Obi-Wan about it and when he focused on it he said he could detect it, but that it had been that way a long time so he hadn’t noticed. I don’t like it dad. He used the ‘so many beings with varying intentions’ excuse, but I _know_ I smelled blood dad. I _know_ it.”

Anakin’s tense expression faded and he smiled again, “But hey, it’s probably the politicians, you always said politicians were the true Dark Side, and Obi-Wan agrees, though he said it a bit more politely than you and Verdi do. He’s so diplomatic, it’s hilarious!”

“Anyway, gotta make this quick, we’re going to dinner soon, but do you want me to tell Master Qui-Gon about you and _fa-Matre_ so he’s used to it when you get here? Let me know. _Liy-tha_ _fatre_.”

The message cut out and Xan leaned back in his pilot’s seat, staring out at the spaceport thoughtfully. He mulled over his response for a few minutes before setting up his own recording.

“Hey kiddo,” he grinned at the recorder, “Sounds like you’re having fun. Be careful though, don’t like the sounds of that murkiness. I’ll check it out when I get there, but you’re more sensitive than me so keep an eye out, yeah? The politicians are a definite possibility. How’s your angel doing with her queen? It’s not looking good for her people, heard about the no confidence vote. It was her senator that ended up the Chancellor, right? That should get a response then.”

“As for the old man,” Xanfrei sighed, “Honestly I never expected to meet him. You go ahead and tell him for me, but make sure he knows I’m not expecting anything, just thought he should know, okay? And if he could not go spreading the word, that’d be great. We’ll be on Coruscant in a few days. _Liy’tha soki_.”

He sent the message and took a look at the text attachment Anakin had sent him. He had to laugh, it was a list of goods to sell and buy on Coruscant with potential prices listed. The kid was getting good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now to finish up the chapter on Naboo. Update may take a while, I'll be traveling for the next couple of weeks.


	6. The Phantom Menace: Battle for Naboo

Anakin jerked awake, getting the undeniable feeling of _something wrong_. Quickly getting up from the couch where he had been sleeping the past nights, he got dressed and packed his travel bag again, now holding two changes of clothes and his re-stocked emergency supplies. Thankfully he had been able to do laundry while he was here.

Checking the apartment he realized Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were both missing. Not too surprising with the latter—he had _just_ told him that Xanfrei was actually his son from a drugged-up one night stand, but Obi-Wan’s absence wasn’t so easily explained. Following his instincts, he headed out the door after locking up, jogging through the Temple’s early morning traffic until he reached the main speeder-bay.

Spotting Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon getting into a speeder, he picked up the pace and dove into the backseat with Obi-Wan, door shutting behind him and the driver immediately taking off. Apparently they were in a rush. Obi-Wan stared down at him incredulously, “Anakin? What are you doing?”

“I woke up and _knew_ something was wrong. Obi-Wan, I _have_ to come with you. Something’s going to go really really wrong if I don’t,” Anakin said solemnly.

“What about your father? He’s supposed to get here tomorrow,” Qui-Gon reminded him.

“I’ll leave a message before we leave to wherever it is we’re going, let him know where we’re headed. He’ll understand,” Anakin told the Master Jedi confidently. “He knows about the _Liy-thas_ will and following it. That’s how he got me after all!”

Obi-Wan sighed, grumbling, “And guess who’s explaining _this_ to the council? Fine, fine,” he agreed at Anakin’s pitiful look, “Stop staring at me like that!”

He eyed the now innocent face, asking mockingly, “You _sure_ you’re not biologically related to the Captain, because that, was a Jinn face.”

“Excuse me, but I was never so crude,” Qui-Gon sniffed imperiously.

Obi-Wan grinned wickedly, “That’s not how _Mace_ tells it, Master.”

Anakin snickered at the scowl on his _fa-Fatres_ face. It was nice to see that they were taking the news of Xan’s relation rather well. Obi-Wan had probably suspected it if the smugly surprised look on his face when Anakin had told them was any indication.

“So where are we headed?” Anakin prompted.

“Back to Naboo,” Obi-Wan said.

“Yeah… Xan’s gonna be pissed,” he muttered, the Jedi laughing.

===***===pagebreak===***===

Anakin sat with Angel in one of the crew lounges of the Nubian vessel, watching the worried handmaiden with concern. “You okay Angel?” he asked, knowing the answer was no, but hoping she’d start talking at the prompt.

“The queen is very worried about our people,” she said in reply, Anakin nearly rolling his eyes. Seriously, he was asking about Angel, not the queen. He knew the queen was worried, otherwise she wouldn’t be a very good queen! Angel was of course worried, she was a good person, but couldn’t she just admit it instead of directing all questions to her queen?

Anakin looked over at the tight-eyed Angel and decided not to say anything about it. She had enough to be worrying about without him demanding a personal response. She was probably just falling back on habit because she didn’t want to think too deeply about what was happening back home.

Touching the japor snippet necklace he always wore, Anakin hesitated before taking it off and handing it to her mutely.

Startled, she took it, looking down at the carved jewelry in confusion, “Ani, what?”

“It’s a japor snippet, carved. They’re supposed to be lucky. But that one, that one means freedom,” Anakin said, pointing at the snippet in general as well as the particular sigil. “I finished that carving the day Xan freed me from slavery, so you should take it. It already has practice at freeing people, so a planet will just be a step up. You tell your queen that, yeah? You’ve got luck and _Liy-tha_ on your side, so you’ll win. And stop worrying so much. Just wastes energy you’ll need to kick the Trade Federation’s ass.”

Padme` looked torn between being touched and appalled at his language. She settled on gratitude, putting the necklace on and tucking it under her dress. “Thank you Ani. I’ll pass that on.”

“You just hold onto that necklace,” Anakin ordered, “And you’ll see your people to freedom.”

===***===pagebreak===***===

While Qui-Gon was held in war councils and strategy sessions as an adviser, Obi-Wan and Anakin worked with the mechanics and trained with the security people. Anakin snuck into the kitchen and swiped some small knives, getting a vibroblade from one of the security officers after he begged and demonstrated sufficient skill. He didn’t push his luck for a blaster. He was a decent shot, really good if he could sink into the Force first, but knew they wouldn’t trust him with one without a demonstration that wasn’t safe in a ship.

Finally they arrived on Naboo, sneaking around the blockade and landing in the swamp-land. Jar-Jar went to check on the Gungan capital city while Anakin hid his knives and made sure his leather vest—all he would have in way of armor—was snug. He had grabbed a toolbelt that was too small for any of the mechanics and put some of his medical supplies in it, along with his comm-link, turned off. Worst come to worse, he knew Xan would be able to find him if he just took off into the swamps so long as he had a comm available to be tracked.

“I want you to stick with us, Anakin,” Obi-Wan repeated as they waited for Jar-Jar to return with news. Anakin rolled his eyes, though Obi-Wan couldn’t see him, and said tiredly, “I _know_ Obi-Wan. I’m not stupid. I’ll follow directions, I know this isn’t a game. It’s dangerous and I could die and you don’t want to explain to my dad. I get it. Stop repeating yourself. Seriously.”

Obi-Wan just mumbled something, arms hidden in his voluminous sleeves but Anakin bet he was white-knuckled. He hadn’t asked after the Zabrak but he would bet that was who Obi-Wan was so worried about—he had heard him and Qui-Gon discussing how the council dismissed their conclusions that it was a Sith. They insisted the Sith had died out completely.

Anakin could taste blood in the air though. He was damn sure it was Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon who would be saying I told you so at the end. He just hoped it wasn’t the kind of I told you so that tasted like ash.

===***===pagebreak===***===

Xan was pacing in the mess. He had been patrolling the whole ship but Verdi had come out of the med center threatening him with sedation if he didn’t stop walking past his door every five minutes. So instead he was pacing the perimeter of the mess, thinking maybe being around the hydroponics unit and the running water would calm him down.

They were three days out from Naboo. Anakin’s message had reached them when they got to Coruscant and they hadn’t even bothered landing, refueling at a space station before taking off for Naboo. As much as Xan wanted to be angry at Anakin, he knew he didn’t have a leg to stand on so long as it was actually the Force urging him to Naboo. After he had taken up his training again they had started getting a lot more jobs and encounters based off the _Liy-tha_.

Xan was trying not to think too hard about what it meant that the Force needed a mostly-legal freight hauler and a nine-year-old kid to serve as a trouble-shooting team. It didn’t bode well for the fate of the Jedi. It also didn’t bode well for his own retirement, though thankfully Verdi had, when asked, been extremely insulted that he had even considered Verdi would want to leave after the odds of getting shot at each job jumped a few levels.

Their rep was far from hurting though, which was good. At least the Force wasn’t asking him to abandon his livelihood for the fate of the galaxy. There was only so much he would tolerate.

If Anakin got hurt, or, _Liy-tha_ forbid, died on this call though, he would be breaking his father’s nose at the least. Maybe a leg or two for good measure.

===***===pagebreak===***===

 _I’ve fallen in love with a Queen_ , Anakin thought despairingly as he listened to the plans for the battles the next day. _This is never going to work. And Xan is never going to let me hear the end of it._

He was certain Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had known. Obi-Wan had been sticking close to Padme` more than any of the other handmaidens or even the Queen and Qui-Gon had constantly come over ostensibly to check on his Padawan and guest, but now obviously to ensure there were no security problems with the queen.

When Padme` had stepped forward to admit the deception to the Gungans, Anakin had been torn between shock and smacking himself for not figuring it out sooner. Really, it made so much more sense than Padme` following someone else’s orders. It did mean his plan to come back in a few years and casually drop in would need some work though—you couldn’t really just drop in on a queen.

At least he could be certain Verdi and Xan would help him figure something out after laughing themselves sick at his expense. They were understanding like that. Though he doubted they would believe him when he said it was love—they’d roll their eyes and think it was just a crush. As long as they helped him, he didn’t really care what they thought though.

Of course he was getting a little ahead of the game. First they had to survive tomorrow.

“C’mon Anakin, let’s get some sleep,” Obi-Wan urged, hand on his shoulder guiding him away from the group. Anakin was going to object but he noticed Captain Panaka and Master Qui-Gon quietly pulling people away to go get some rest too, so it wasn’t just him being sent off to bed.

Settling on the blanket he was using, he stared up at the trees before asking, “Obi-Wan?”

The Jedi didn’t sigh, he was too disciplined for that, but Anakin would bet he wanted to. “Yes Anakin?”

“Don’t die tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“Back at you. Now go to sleep.”

===***===pagebreak===***===

Sneaking into the city was both easier and harder than expected. The resistance group Panaka had gotten in contact with knew the safe routes well, but the city was crawling with droids even with the Gungan army’s distraction and they wanted to get to the palace without anyone noticing them early.

Anakin hadn’t strengthened his shields in days, so he kept his senses extended the whole time. The fear coating the city was nauseating, forcing him to limit his exposure a little so he didn’t hurl. Judging by the tight looks on Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s faces, they felt it too, but weren’t quite as badly affected. Or they were just accustomed to it.

Anakin _hated_ it. He had never felt a place this choked with terror, not even on Nar Shaddaa or Tatooine. Given, Xan had kept him out of the worst areas, and they hadn’t been back to Nar Shaddaa since the attempted abduction nearly a year ago, but it was wrong that a place like this—so obviously intended for peace, so beautiful—could be so suffocating.

And over everything was the bitter copper taste of old blood.

The plan called for them to get the star fighter pilots into the hangar so they could get out and destroy the droid control ship in orbit. Then they’d go for the throne room to get the Viceroy and intimidate him into giving up. From Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s explanation, it wouldn’t take much to force the being to fold, especially if the droids went down.

Part one of the plan went smoothly, they got into the palace, past the droids, and the star-fighter pilots were able to get to their ships. Anakin was just grateful that his _fa-Matre_ was a big believer in the school of hard-knocks, so his agility was more than enough to keep close to Obi-Wan.

They were running for the door to get out of the hangar and into the main palace when the Zabrak appeared, causing everyone to freeze. Anakin shuddered at the roiling blackness flowing from the creature, Obi-Wan shifting so Anakin was mostly behind him.

“Anakin, find a safe place to hide,” Qui-Gon ordered calmly, activating his saber a moment before Obi-Wan. The tattooed Zabrak just bared his teeth in a fierce parody of a smile, double bladed saber’s hum bizarrely menacing.

“Roger-roger,” Anakin muttered, slipping between the people in Padme`’s party so they were between him and the lightsaber face-off.

“Get going, we’ll take care of this,” Obi-Wan said to the rest, Anakin’s cover disappearing as the group ran off, Padme` saying, “We’ll take the long way around.”

Anakin first hid behind some boxes, but then realized he was absolutely screwed if some security forces came through. And there was a conveniently close starfighter with an open cockpit canopy and an astromech ready and waiting.

Chancing a glance down the hangar bay, his eyes widened as he saw that though the Jedi and the Zabrak-Sith were gone, droidekas were rolling in. He scrambled up the ladder into the cockpit, staring at the unfamiliar buttons with a vague feeling of panic before he threw himself into the Force, fingers moving with a mind of their own as they closed the canopy, turned on the engines, activated the shields and fired up the weapons’ system.

Joystick familiar from simulators he had begged Xan to let him try, he confidently pulled the ship forward and turned to face the droidekas. He couldn’t have them going after Padme’s group after all, they had enough to worry about. The droidekas’ shields glowed as he poured blaster fire into them, but they were meant to stand up to hand-blaster fire, not sustained high power lasers, and soon shattered, droidekas barely having time to register that fact before they were smoking scrap.

Anakin cheered, dancing a little jig in his seat. He had been useful! And gotten to play around in a starfighter, this was great!

Suddenly the fighter was moving again, and Anakin froze, staring at the only vaguely familiar console. “Uh-oh,” he muttered, color draining from his face as he registered the computer display’s words.

_\--Autopilot, engaged.--_

“Oh shit,” Anakin scrambled to put on the headset as the fighter shot out of the hangar, by some miracle the ground defenses failing to hit when they fired at him. “Disengage, disengage!” he howled as the system didn’t let him so much as jig the fighter out of the way of obstacles.

“Astromech unit!” he squawked, “Disengage this autopilot or we’re going to die!”

_\--Unit designation R2D2 acknowledging. Attempting to disengage autopilot.--_

“Attempting is in _no way_ good enough!” Anakin shouted, strapping himself to the seat and tightening the straps as far as they’d go. He could still reach the controls, so he might as well be secure from maneuvers while doing it.

They were quickly approaching the dog-fight, which did not seem to be going well for the Nubian pilots—the droid control ship was still around after all. Judging from the chatter the shields were just too strong.

Hands ready on the controls to take over the moment the autopilot was disengaged, Anakin let the Force wash over him as he tried to take everything in. The Nubian pilots glowed like small fires in his senses, so alive and filled with adrenaline they sparked, while the droids just lurked as dead voids in space.

“Come on, come on,” he murmured, eyes wide as he watched blaster-fire crease his shields, “Come on R2!”

_\--Autopilot, disengaged.--_

“Thank you! You are a god amongst droids!” Anakin screamed as he slammed the ship down and away from the blaster fire heading straight for him.

Cross-hairs glowed red and he fired, droid ship exploding as it pursued a Nubian. Ignoring the thanks from the other pilot, Anakin swooped around to take a look at the droid control ship. The shields were strong, he could feel them vibrating in the Force, and he winced when a pilot failed to pull up in time and crashed into vapor on the things.

Looping away from them and jumping into the dog-fight instead, Anakin let the Force guide his actions as he mulled on how to get past that shield.

It wasn’t until he heard a warning of reinforcements that he saw the hangar bay, spewing out more droid-ships for them to break upon. “There you are,” Anakin said grimly. “R2, we’re heading for that hangar, try not to fall off!”

While the other pilots tried to evade the new arrivals, Anakin plunged straight for them, gambling the unpredictable action would throw the droid’s circuit and logic driven minds for at least a few moments.

“Wahoo!” he whooped, the joy of flying finally breaking through and he grinned, fighter nimbly darting through blaster-fire and enemy vessels. “Can’t catch me suckers!” he taunted, not caring that his words were wasted on passionless droids and instead cackling as he twisted his ship in a hard loop, sending his tail spinning out of control and into another, explosion glowing behind him.

The entrenched defenses were not so easy, Anakin doing his best to twist away from cruel lasers but unable to prevent some damage before he plowed through the magcon field and entered the hangar. The bottom of his fighter slammed into the deck, emergency shut-down not activating fast enough to keep him from screaming down the hangar deck on the fighter’s belly, sparks flying.

He clipped a ship and went into a spin as the engine finally stalled out, slamming him against his straps and clenching his eyes shut to keep himself from vomiting all over the clean cockpit.

As soon as the spinning slowed, Anakin straightened up to look around, blanching at the sight of all the droid units heading for him. “R2 get our systems back online!” he yelled, reaching for the controls again and doing what he could from the cockpit, unable to do much but trust the astromech to save them yet again.

Thankfully the battle droids’ logic circuits must have been malfunctioning because they took a few long minutes before raising their blaster’s to fire on him and in those minutes R2 got the shields and weapons back up.

“Engines would be great too!” Anakin called, taking advantage of his defenses and firing lasers on the droids and the hangar itself before flipping over to torpedos. Not wanting to waste his heavy power, Anakin let the Force guide these, engines lighting up just in time for him to twist around and fire a series of torpedos and lasers down the hangar towards the heart of the ship.

Judging by the shuddering of the droid control ship and the alarms blaring, he had done some real damage, but there wasn’t any time to congratulate himself, he had to escape the oncoming explosion.

Twisting the fighter around he ordered, “All power to back shields and everything we can spare to speed R2!”

The astromech followed his orders immediately, the fighter getting a definite speed boost as he hurtled away from the inferno on his heels. “Come on baby, come on,” he muttered, rocking slightly in his seat as if he could coax more speed from the engines that way.

Sweat dripping down his face and knuckles white on the joystick, he let out a joyful whoop when he cleared the hangar, plunging into the welcoming cool of space.

He didn’t stop until he was within the cluster of surviving Nubian fighters, other pilots’ cheers and congratulations buoying him as he watched the droid control ship catastrophically fail. Now that it was over, he couldn’t stop grinning, even though he had no idea what was happening on the surface.

“It’s up to them now boys, let’s fly in,” the ranking pilot ordered, “Give our boy here a hero’s escort.”

Anakin was surprised no one had asked him who he was, but maybe these pilots had figured he was some offworlder who’d come to help, since they’d left some ships behind. He didn’t say anything, not wanting to ruin the experience and decided to savor it as he flew in with the remaining pilots, all six of them.

They reached the hangar after a good twenty minutes calm flying, pilots chatting and joking with one another as they came down from the high of surviving. Landing and shutting the systems down, Anakin pulled the helmet of his hair, now soaked in sweat, and slumped back in the seat, tilting his head back with his eyes closed.

The high was vanishing now, replaced with the knowledge that some good people had died today and he had nearly _died_. This was even closer than that Nar Shaddaa abduction, the Correllian swoop bike thing and the rancor baiting adventure combined. And there had been no one coming for him—no one even knew he was _there_.

Shaking it off, Anakin unbuckled himself before raising the canopy, saying aloud, “Thanks R2, you’re the best.”

He clambered up out of the cockpit and slid down to the ground, main pilot, Ray Ofee Anakin thought, staring at him incredulously from where he had been waiting to greet him.

“We were just saved, by a _kid_?” the man demanded, other pilots clustering behind him, wide eyed with shock.

Anakin knew right now they were shocked, but resentment might pop up later if he wasn’t careful, so he went straight for the calm explanation.

“I was with the Queen’s group and droidekas came. The shields were too strong for hand-blasters so I climbed up in a cockpit and fired up the weapons system to take them out so they could get away. Unfortunately the autopilot engaged automatically and R2 wasn’t able to get it shut off until I was already stuck in the middle. So…I went for it.”

“And did a good job, pretty sure you picked a tail off me,” a short, swarthy pilot admitted, elaborate mustache quivering as he spoke.

The other pilots nodded, murmuring agreement that Anakin had done well, but Anakin kept his gaze on Ofee, hoping the man wouldn’t hold this against him. He had only seen him from a distance a few times on the Queen’s ship, so it wasn’t like the man knew him at all. To him he was just some kid along for the ride by accident.

His worry eased when the pilot relaxed, smiling ruefully as he rubbed his head with one hand. “All right, guess it’d be pretty stupid to hold it against you. Good job out there kid, you’re one heck of a pilot.”

“Thanks!” Anakin perked up, smiling brilliantly, “The fighter’s a sweet one.”

“They are aren’t they?” another of the pilots grinned. “Now come on hero, we need to give you your welcome!”

“Wait—what—hey!” Anakin squawked as the two tallest pilots swooped in and scooped him up, sitting him on their shoulders, cheering, “Three cheers for genius kid!”

The remaining pilots swarmed around, laughing at Anakin’s shock and cheering for him, Anakin turning a brilliant red at the attention, trying to stammer demands to set him down.

He finally gave in and accepted the praise with a huge grin, cheeks still flaming. They needed something to cheer for, and he had been damn good out there.

He tried to avoid thinking about what exactly Xan was going to say when he found out about this little adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all like it. Next bit is either going to be the aftermath or an interlude so we see how Qui-Gon felt about this whole thing. You'll be getting both, it's just a matter of which one my muse is tempted by for timing.


	7. The Phantom Menace: Clean Up

Anakin found Obi-Wan talking with Padme` an hour or so later, the pilots finally letting him go after wrangling comm information from him. Apparently he was now the kid brother of a fighter pilot squad. There were worse fates.

The blood-taste was fading, but what Anakin found more worrying was the absence of the strong, earthy tea flavor of his _fa-Fatre_. He hoped for shielding or a deep coma.

“Found you!” he chirped, smiling at the solemn pair. Padme` returned the smile with a small one of her own, but Obi-Wan’s attempt was a study of failure.

“Your Majesty!” a figure called from the end of the hall and Padme` looked over immediately, resting one hand briefly on Obi-Wan’s arm before sweeping away, even in her tan and white combat gear looking positively regal.

“Hey Obi-Wan,” Anakin smiled up at the Padawan determinedly. “So where’s Gramps hiding?”

Obi-Wan pulled him into a side-room rather than answer and set him down on a chair, kneeling awkwardly in front of him. “What happened to you?” he asked instead, Anakin’s eyes filling as he took in the reason for that.

“’M sorry, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said miserably, before flinging himself at Obi-Wan, wrapping his arms around his neck fiercely and letting himself sob. Obi-Wan returned the hug much quicker this time, and judging by the damp spot on Anakin’s shoulder, had only needed someone else to mourn with before crying.

Far too soon for Anakin’s liking, Obi-Wan pulled back and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “Right, so, what happened to you?” he asked again, professional dutiful-Jedi mask smoothing over his face, only the redness in his eyes betraying his grief.

Anakin didn’t try to force it though, guessing Obi-Wan wanted to keep some of his composure, and struggled to drag his own in, wiping his own eyes on his sleeves hastily as he sat on the ground across from him.

“Well I hid, like you said, but got in a star-fighter to fight off some droidekas but then the autopilot came on and—“ he launched into a retelling of his adventure, enthusiasm for the thrill damped by Qui-Gon’s death but determined to keep the mood up a little and distract Obi-Wan.

With much hand-waving and sound-effects, he was able to draw out the story for a good twenty minutes, keeping an eye on Obi-Wan’s Force presence. Normally fresh-spring water and firelight, right now it was tinted with blood and salty tears, fire weak.

He really didn’t like that blood flavor, the other two were grief, a devastating grief, but the blood was something else, something a fair bit more worrisome. Finally he wound down, keeping his eyes on Obi-Wan’s calmly attentive face, before he asked nervously, “What happened to you guys?”

The calm expression wavered, guilty _pain_ in his eyes, but the loss of composure didn’t last and Obi-Wan reined himself in, taking a deep breath before explaining simply, “We dueled into the generator rooms. I was separated from them by a plasma wall when the Sith struck down Master Qui-Gon. I fought him and nearly lost, did lose my saber, but was able to call Master Qui-Gon’s to me and I killed the Sith.”

Anakin carefully raised an eyebrow at the abbreviated explanation (he had only just gotten the knack of raising one eyebrow at a time), but didn’t comment. If Obi-Wan didn’t want to talk to him, Obi-Wan didn’t want to talk to him. He’d just sic his dad on him—the similarities between Gramps and Dad were great enough that he’d probably prompt a loss of composure once he showed up.

To that end, he’d probably best record a message and send it off so dad would know he was okay and where to go. He’d need to ask Padme` or someone where he would be able to set down.

“Okay,” Anakin said quietly, Obi-Wan looking up sharply, having been staring at the floor, “I want to record a message for dad, do you know where he should land? He’ll probably be here tomorrow or the day after.”

“We can go ask Captain Panaka,” Obi-Wan said, rising to his feet smoothly and waiting while Anakin scrambled to his own feet before heading out the door. He had obviously been wanting something to distract him. Good, Anakin could do distraction.

At least until his dad got here. Then he’d probably lose what little composure he’d managed to hold onto for Obi-Wan’s sake and start crying again. He may not have known Qui-Gon long, but he had been kind and his _family_. That was all he needed to grieve.

===***===pagebreak===***===

Padme` watched Obi-Wan and Anakin carefully over the next two days whenever she had a moment. She could tell they were grieving and while Anakin seemed to be doing so in a healthy manner—she had held him as he cried that first night—Obi-Wan was suppressing everything. As much as Jedi were supposed to be calm and placid all the time, Qui-Gon had been his Master, and his _father_ as far as she was concerned. He _needed_ to grieve.

She just hoped Captain Jyhn would be able to do something. She just didn’t know how to approach Obi-Wan, but she doubted that would stop the Captain, not if Anakin asked him to help. She hadn’t talked much with the man, Anakin and his mother keeping her occupied that night they stayed on Tatooine, but what she did remember and what she could assume from Anakin’s clear hero-worship was that he was a good, kind father and honorable man.

For that reason and out of concern for Anakin, she had authorized use of the royal hangar for his ship when he came in, with the order to get him through as fast as possible and to alert her immediately when the ship arrived.

Sabe` approached as if the thought had summoned her, cutting her gaze to the duo helping with repairs to windows before she came close enough to speak. All of the handmaidens were concerned about the pair, especially Obi-Wan. His good looks certainly didn’t hurt the urge to comfort him and help him grieve Master Jinn.

“The _Nimbus Djinn_ has arrived, m’lady,” Sabe` murmured. “The captain and first mate are being brought here by Dorme`, I was sent ahead.”

Padme` smiled, happy something had worked out at last, but before she could start walking over to Anakin and Obi-Wan and pass on the news, Anakin jerked his head around to gaze down the hall, eyes wide. Many of the repair techs and Obi-Wan looked over at his sudden reaction, the puzzled look on Obi-Wan’s face clearing quickly.

The Force. Of course she wouldn’t get to pass on a happy message for once, Padme` grumbled mentally, knowing the instant the escort and Anakin’s father came into view because the nine-year-old jumped to his feet and blasted down the hallway, shouting, “ _Fatre! Fatre!_ ”

“Brat!” the tall man shouted back, catching the nine-year old easily and letting him bury his face in his shoulder, worried scowl on his face having faded the moment he caught sight of his son. Padme` let them have their moment, Obi-Wan coming up to stand beside her demurely. The green haired man standing next to the Captain approached her and with a courteous bow, he said, “Your Majesty, I’m Verdi Costal, first mate of the _Djinn_ and a doctor, would there be anyone available to show me the way to the hospital so I might offer my services?”

“Of course,” Padme` smiled in relief, “Our thanks for your aid. Dorme`?” she asked the handmaiden who had guided the duo this far and was unsurprised by her easy agreement. A smile twitched her lips when the man courteously offered the handmaiden his arm, Dorme` flushing slightly before accepting and leading him off. She wondered if the man meant anything by it or he was a natural flirt.

“Watch the braid brat,” she heard the captain grumble and she turned her focus to the duo again, laughing softly at the sight. Anakin had apparently decided his father needed his hands free but wasn’t willing to let him go, so instead scrambled around so he was attached to his back like a limpet without setting foot on the ground.

At the reprimand, Anakin had carefully grabbed his father’s braid from where it had caught on his vest and hung it over his father’s left shoulder. The captain approached, Anakin’s arms around his neck and legs twined around his waist while he watched her from his over father’s shoulder with happy eyes.

He bowed, managing to somehow look dignified with a nine-year old attached to his back. “Your Majesty,” he said calmly, “Our grief to yours.”

It sounded like a formulaic expression but she could tell it was meant sincerely and she met it with her own, saying simply, “Our thanks.”

She turned to introduce Obi-Wan to the man again, figuring the Jedi would need the prompting, but froze at the expression on Obi-Wan’s face. He had a look of broken wonder, gaze locked on the Captain’s strong features. Padme` had the admittedly weak moment of wondering how the pair would look as a couple before it clicked and she whipped her head around to stare at the Captain with her own incredulous wonder.

“You look remarkably similar to Jedi Master Jinn. I didn’t notice before,” she offered, hating her trembling voice in that moment. Same strong features, no beard to soften that chin, sharply peaked hairline and nose having that same once-broken bend. She had to wonder if it was inherited or if they had both simply broken their nose in similar places.

“Yeah, figured it was something like that,” the man said quietly, even his voice having something of Master Jinn in it, though with an unfamiliar accent. “Mind if we continue this privately?”

“Not at all, here, let me show you a room,” she said, ushering them into a side-room. Obi-Wan looked like he was going to try and bow out citing family reunion or something but before he could slip past Padme` back into the hall the captain wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tugged him into a hug, ignoring the Padawan’s rigid shock.

He nodded at Padme`, who had paused with Sabe` at the door, saying, “I’ve got this.”

“Our thanks, Captain Jyhn,” Padme` said again, before they left and shut the door behind them, cutting off a strangled sob.

“Oh thank the stars,” Sabe` said quietly as they headed down the hall. “I was really worried about him.”

“We all were,” Padme` echoed, before raising an eyebrow at her friend and right-hand. “So, Captain _Jyhn_ shares a remarkable amount of features with the departed master. Thoughts?”

“I had wondered why Anakin was so aggrieved after only knowing the man two weeks, if that,” Sabe` commented instead, Padme` understanding what she meant perfectly. She had the same thoughts after all.

“We’ll have to spread the good news. There’s hope for you and Obi-Wan yet.”

“Padme`!”

===***===pagebreak===***===

Xan let Obi-Wan sob into his shirt, arms wrapped around him as he murmured Dathomiri comforts. Judging by the wet-spot growing on his shoulder, Anakin had started crying as well, probably having been holding in his grief as best he could while Obi-Wan needed him.

Looking around the room the queen (he would have to tease Anakin about that when he felt better) had led them to, he spotted some chairs over by the windows. Once these two had gotten the immediate grief out of their systems he would get them to sit down and tell him exactly what had happened two days ago because Anakin’s message had left a lot to be desired.

_Flashback: Little under two days ago_

Xan was meditating in the cockpit when an alert for a hypercomm message came through and he perked up immediately. They didn’t have live hypercomm communication systems on the ship so any message would have to be a recording, but the only person he could figure would be sending a hypercomm recording was Anakin.

Accepting the message he waited impatiently as the screen loaded, messaging Verdi who ran into the cockpit just as the waiting screen disappeared and Anakin’s face appeared, eyes red.

Xan examined the image hungrily, wanting the reassurance his son was okay, was safe. He would never have guessed when he made that purchase two years ago that he would have come to treasure the boy so much.

“Hey _Fatre_ ,” Anakin said, subdued. “Just wanted to let you know I’m okay. So’s Padme` and Obi-Wan, we won the battle. I didn’t get hurt, got involved in a bit of a firefight through absolutely _no fault of my own_ but I’m _fine_. Okay? I’m fine.”

Anakin looked aside briefly, biting his lip as he visibly struggled to keep from tears. “ _Fatre_ —Gramps is dead. He was killed by the Zabrak Nightsister guy. Obi-Wan calls him a Sith.”

Xan sat back in his seat, Verdi resting a hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t ever even met the man face-to-face, just received a recording when they hit Coruscant which he had apparently made after finding out about their relation. He hadn’t even watched it in full yet, too worried about Anakin to give it due attention, so what grief he felt was an abstract thing.

Anakin though, had clearly gotten quite the impression from the man, and he ached for him. Even more for Obi-Wan, who had clearly loved Qui-Gon as a father, even if he called the man Master. Knowing the Jedi, Obi-Wan probably felt unable to mourn and was all twisted up over whether or not his grief was appropriate. He’d have to make sure to pull the younger man aside and get him to at least acknowledge his grief before the Jedi delegation got there, he doubted anyone sent would be particularly helpful in something like this.

“Sith’s dead though,” Anakin had continued, “Obi-Wan killed him.”

Judging by the wide eyes, there was some message in that. Xan didn’t get it, but at least he would be able to remember the fact Obi-Wan had killed the Zabrak was important.

“We’re going to help out with the rebuilding efforts while we’re waiting. Padme` said you could use the royal hangar. Coordinates and passcodes are attached to this message. She let us use her hypercomm account so you’d get this before you came.”

“See you soon _Fatre_. _Liy-tha._ ”

The screen went dark. Verdi sighed, sitting down in the copilot’s seat. “You going to be all right, Xan?” he asked.

“I didn’t even know the man,” Xan raised an eyebrow at his friend, “Sure, I’m sorry I didn’t get to know him, but I’m more worried about Anakin and Obi-Wan right now than anything. I’m fine, he sent me a message that I haven’t viewed yet, we’ll see how I feel after that.”

“All right then. I could use your help seeing what supplies we can spare for medical treatment and relief efforts,” Verdi said, getting to his feet and Xan following. There wasn’t anything else he could do for the grieving pair on Naboo, not yet, so might as well make himself useful.

_Flashback end_

Xan sighed, Obi-Wan’s sobs having subsided to quiet tears a few minutes ago. “Feel better?” he asked quietly.

Obi-Wan pulled away from him and he let him escape this time, the Jedi wiping his eyes on a sleeve, “Yes, I apologize,” he said.

“No need,” Xan rested a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder worriedly, “Would you mind terribly telling me what happened?”

“N-no,” Obi-Wan insisted through a stammer, flinch barely visible. Xan guided him over to the seats, Obi-Wan sitting in one armchair, Anakin sliding down of Xan’s back and cramming in next to him, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist. Xan dragged a chair closer so he could sit across from them, knees nearly brushing against Obi-Wan’s. He leaned forward, resting his chin on laced together fingers and watching patiently, “When exactly did you arrive?” he prompted.

The story came spilling out far more readily than he had expected, but when the group split apart and the duel with the Zabrak began in earnest, Obi-Wan started to visibly struggle with the report.

“He used a dual bladed saber and was very well trained. We fought our way to the generator rooms, and tried to tag-team him as we had with other opponents but he was too skilled. I fell behind when I fell off a catwalk and landed a few levels down,” judging by the agonized look Xan doubted Obi-Wan realized he had on his face, he felt very guilty about that. The Zabrak had probably shoved him or arranged it somehow, fighting a team of two who knew one another as well as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan would have was very difficult, no matter how easy one made it look.

“Before I could catch up they were near the central generator with energy walls segregating the hall. They were being operated on a timer, Master Qui-Gon,” his voice broke over the name and he paused, Xan waiting patiently as Obi-Wan took a deep breath and continued, “Master Qui-Gon and the Zabrak were separated by a few sections, and when the walls dropped I ran as fast as I could but ended up being caught by the last energy wall while they fought.”

That would have been torturous, even if Qui-Gon had made it out fine. Xan would bet the man had seen his Master die while he could do nothing, no wonder he was so conflicted.

“Master Qui-Gon is a good fighter, but he was getting old,” Obi-Wan’s smile was weak, but it was there so Xan counted it a win, “He twisted his knee leaving Naboo in the first place, rookie mistake. He was flagging and the Zabrak wasn’t. The—that creature caught him through the chest,” his voice was thick with tears and Xan paused the story by reaching over and dragging Obi-Wan out of the chair to collapse against him, crying again, Anakin snug between them and keeping his arms wrapped around the Jedi.

“It—it didn’t even pause just dropped him and _stared_ at me, just waiting, smiling while my Master was _dying_ ,” Obi-Wan wasn’t even trying to keep his composure now, babbling through his tears.

Xan mentally acknowledged the good tactics.

“The wall dropped and I just—I lost it,” Obi-Wan inhaled, a deep, shuddering thing, “I completely lost control and was just so _angry_.”

The whisper had a large dose of horror and Anakin shuddered, arms around Obi-Wan tightening. Xan figured this was what the wide eyes had meant, Obi-Wan had slipped into the Dark Side during his fight, which would have left some residue Anakin would have picked up on easily. The source of Obi-Wan’s conflict was even more obvious now, he’d have to drag them both into meditation to start purging soon, particularly before the Jedi delegation arrived. From rumors and his own experience in the Outer Rim, they had a tendency to be reactionary to any hint of the Dark Side.

“He knocked me down the shaft but I caught myself. Lost my saber though, and he kept trying to get me to let go, just waiting for me to fail. And I just—stopped. Being angry. It wasn’t working so I…I let it go. I was able to jump out and call Master Qui-Gon’s saber to me and killed the Sith, cutting him in half. His body and saber fell down the generator shaft.”

“Master Qui-Gon was still alive, barely and I tried to get him to hold on but he was just—it was just too—too much and he—he died,” Obi-Wan sobbed.

Xan winced, keeping his arms wrapped around the two mourners. Truly a perfect storm. It was a good thing he had learned that bottling things up in a vain effort to suppress them ended badly—Obi-Wan needed that expertise now.

The weeping subsided and Obi-Wan pulled away, Xan letting him go. Anakin stayed next to Obi-Wan, though he released his desperate hold on the Jedi’s waist.

“Thank you for telling me,” Xan said quietly. “I was planning on pulling Anakin aside to meditate. Would you like to join us?”

“Yeah Obi-Wan!” Anakin perked up, smiling with red and puffy eyes. “Join us, please?”

Xan’s lips twitched at Obi-Wan’s immediate acquiescence with Anakin’s request, even though he had been in the midst of starting a polite refusal when Anakin butted in. Anakin had doubtlessly known that too and was taking full advantage of Obi-Wan’s desire to avoid upsetting him. He got that trait from his mother—Shmi had used it on all three of them at times.

“Do you think the queen would mind us using the gardens?” he prompted, letting the other two lead him to some nearby gardens Anakin had already secured permission for. With any luck he’d be able to get Obi-Wan and Anakin past some of their grief and on the way to healing before the Jedi Council arrived with the Republic’s delegation.

===***===pagebreak===***===

The next week took on a pattern. In the morning they would all rise and join the queen’s people for breakfast. Verdi would head out to various medical centers while Xan would pull Anakin and Obi-Wan into the gardens for meditation and grieving. Mid-morning they’d find somewhere in the palace to help out and in the afternoon they’d head into Theeds. They usually ended up helping with reconstruction and clearing debris, being able to lift things with the Force was very useful in that regard.

Xan kept a careful eye on the two boys while doing this. Both had a tendency to overdo it, and Anakin’s control still left a bit to be desired.

When the Jedi’s delegation arrived they were found working on some housing units that had been damaged structurally.

“Genius kid!” a stocky man with a truly impressive mustache called, beaming at Anakin, who waved happily.

“Genius kid?” Xan asked amusedly, amusement heightening at Anakin’s suddenly guilty look. Oh this was going to be good. Obi-Wan must have caught it too and hid a smile, Xan tallying that to the positive events column for the day. It was about time.

“He hasn’t told you? This boy is the one who destroyed the droid control ship, pulling my fat out of the fire and saving Naboo!” the man crowed, “A brilliant fighter pilot already!”

Anakin returned his greetings with a grin and some questions about his family, but he had a distinctly queasy look to him as Obi-Wan steadied Xan who had started swaying in shock. “My son did what?” Xan asked softly, Obi-Wan the only one to catch it.

“It truly wasn’t intentional,” Obi-Wan assured him, “He ended up in the middle of the firefight and had to fight to stay alive. He just also happened to be really good.”

“We’ll have to have a little chat regarding keeping information from me regardless,” Xan raised an eyebrow at Anakin, who was watching him guiltily.

“The Republic’s delegation are here and so are the Jedi, the Queen sent us for you,” the pilot said, smile faded slightly as he finally understood why Xan was reacting so badly to this news. He turned to Anakin and scolded, “You should have told him right away. Parents never like kids concealing something from them when it is in regards to their safety.”

“I just didn’t want him to worry,” Anakin mumbled, “Sorry _Fatre.”_

“Don’t worry about it brat, but you’re still getting a lecture and some drills.”

“Awww, come on!”

“I suppose I could tell _matre_?”

“…unfair.”

“That’s what I thought. Let’s go see the Jedi representatives,” Xan said, hand on Anakin’s shoulder propelling him forward, Obi-Wan walking along next to him with the pilot leading the way, chatting about what Anakin had missed in the fighter pilot group he had apparently been adopted into.

Xan shook his head slightly, really, Anakin was getting a little too good at hiding things from him. He’d have to get details on this ‘happening to be really good’ dogfight his son had gotten into.

And they’d have to figure out how they were telling Shmi, because she had been strict enough when she found out he was teaching him to fight dirty and not stopping him from getting in scraps with local kids all the time.

He’d worry about that and plan it out with Verdi and Ani later though. Right now he was going to be introduced to the Jedi Council, a group he had been raised to view with suspicious respect and had learned to view with suspicious disgruntlement. Too many people had been left by the wayside by the Jedi Order for him to truly respect their ruling body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thought that Phantom Menace would be done this chapter, but the Jedi Council is being remarkably uncooperative. Figured I'd kept you waiting long enough, so here's the first bit of this chapter. Next up--Jedi Council, cremations and a parade.


	8. The Phantom Menace: Parades and Cremations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Naboo is finished...

Anakin stuck near Obi-Wan after Bral had dropped them off by the palace chamber where the Jedi Council members had assembled. His dad was trailing behind them, shields banked up high to the point Anakin’s teeth hurt just looking at it—he’d never gotten good at shielding like his _fatre_ had, it was painful if he pushed too much down.

“Honored Council Members,” Obi-Wan greeted, bowing to the few members who had come. Anakin recognized Masters Yoda and Windu by name, and there were a few others he couldn’t recall the name of there too.

“Padawan Kenobi,” Mace Windu said calmly, “Could you deliver a report?”

Anakin nearly ground his teeth. Seriously? Their friend, Obi-Wan’s _master_ (oh how he hated that word), his _fa-fatre_ was dead and all they wanted was a report?! No sympathy, no shared grief? What the kriffing hell was this?

“Anakin!” Xan’s stern voice cut across his fuming like a knife and he froze, hoping he hadn’t actually said any of that out loud. “My apologies, Master Jedi,” Anakin bowed without prompting, “I am still finding it difficult to control my emotions after recent events.”

“Understandable, it is,” Master Yoda said graciously, Anakin unwilling to take offense (even though he _definitely_ wanted to) at the tone. The tone directed at _him_ , conciliation offered to _him_. Damn it he had known Qui-Gon for a few weeks! Obi-Wan had known—gah! Calm. Pool. Clear sky, wind blowing fat Dathomiri clouds. Empty sands, nothing but him, the air, and the sand.

There, that was better.

Of course, he comes back to himself to find the Jedi delegation staring at his father with no little curiosity while they listened to Obi-Wan’s report. Just great. At least Yoda and Windu appeared to focus entirely on Obi-Wan’s matter-of-fact report of events.

“A great loss, Qui-Gon’s death to the Order, is,” Yoda said calmly at the conclusion of Obi-Wan’s report. “Yet legacy he has left us, in a new Knight, yes.”

“Master Yoda?” Obi-Wan asked, clearly bewildered. The other Council members were a mixed bag of surprise and knowing, but none of them were projecting any doubt. They all seemed happy with the decision at least.

“The trials, you have undergone,” Yoda informed him patiently, “The Trial of Skill, passed with defeat of a Sith, both in a fight with your Master and alone. The Trial of Courage, passed when continue to fight while Master was down, you did. Trial of Insight, throughout this mission when you insisted the Sith warrior was a threat, when you reported feelings of unease—a deep connection to the Unifying Force you have. Trial of the Flesh and Spirit both, during your fight with the Sith and the death of your Master.”

“Besides, there is precedent for promotion in the field,” Master Windu said calmly, “It has simply been some time since there have been events extraordinary enough to warrant them. This case is one of them, most definitely. The Sith—suns we had thought they were destroyed centuries ago!”

“Rule of Two, allowed them to hide, it did,” Yoda stated calmly, “Now we are forewarned. Prepare, we can. Promotion ceremony, take place here, it will. But not now. Negotiations between Gungans and Naboo, investigation of Sith, funeral, we must arrange.”

Obi-Wan took that as his dismissal and bowed, Anakin hastily echoing him and following as they headed out the room. He looked over his shoulder at Xan and hesitated, surprised to see him watching the Council and not making good on an escape, “ _Fatre_?” he asked.

“Go on Anakin, I’ll find you two later. The Jedi Council would like a word with me,” the smile tossed over at him was a casually hostile thing and Anakin nodded slowly, heading out after Obi-Wan again. He’d have to see if they could find Verdi, because he would be this wasn’t going to be a particularly fun meeting to catch the backlash of.

===***===pagebreak===***===

Xan waited a few moments after the door shut completely to confirm Anakin was actually following Obi-Wan away. He doubted this would get too ugly, but it wasn’t something he wanted Anakin to be eavesdropping on, there was too much of a chance for this devolving into…well, not something he wanted his son to hear.

“The resemblance truly is startling,” Mace Windu broke the silence that had fallen. Xan nodded slightly in acknowledgement. From what he had gathered by pulling stories of Qui-Gon from Obi-Wan like particularly stubborn teeth, this man was one of his father’s best friends all the way from childhood.

“I would like to confirm that he was unaware of my existence until Anakin brought the matter to his attention on Coruscant. He was drugged before my conception, my mother ensuring he left with the impression nothing had occurred,” Xan said placidly, keeping a tight lid on his stress and worry. The last thing Obi-Wan needed was for Qui-Gon’s memory to be stained as an Oathbreaker to the Order. It was the last thing Anakin and Obi-Wan’s fragile friendship needed for that matter.

There were faint murmurs of surprise at that from some of the Council—the measures his _matre_ had taken were illegal on most civilized planets. At the least it was something shameful to admit too.

Yoda alone seemed completely unsurprised, but then Xan couldn’t read his expressions well and was relying on severely damped Force sensing for his impressions. “A common practice, amongst old shamans, that is,” Yoda instead commented.

Xan nodded at the unspoken question, “The _Liy-tha_ commanded it, so she saw it was done. I never expected anything of him, though I knew a name and profession. There were no expectations on my part. I was quite surprised to find I was even on the same planet as him, much less have my son stay with him for the better part of a month.”

“Not our business, your past is,” Yoda said firmly when it looked like some of the members were going to burst out with questions and demands as to his mother’s purpose and what exactly was so necessary about his conception.

“Nor is it our business to dig up old ghosts of Qui-Gon’s, unless they demand it,” Mace Windu echoed, stern gaze quieting his more nosy brethren. “He was a Master of the Order, filled with compassion and a deep love for all living things and the Force. Do not doubt that, Masters. Now if you might excuse me, I need to have a private word with Captain Jyhn. Master Yoda?”

“Know what you speak of, I do,” Yoda snorted, “Unnecessary I find it, but stop it I will not. Masters, seek out the Queen to see where we might do the most good, we must.”

Xan kept his eyes on Windu as the others filed out. He had an idea what this was about. He would have been very surprised if the Jedi Council had simply ignored Anakin’s immense potential.

“Your son is a living shatterpoint,” the Korun master said bluntly. “The impact he will have on the future of the entire galaxy is immense.”

“I am aware. That’s one of the reasons I was drawn to him,” Xan said simply, deciding to be honest with this man, who seemed to appreciate bluntness. “If the Jedi had not found him by then, it was likely a different side of the coin would have gotten to him first, due to his age. Jedi training is not something to enter in adulthood lightly.”

Windu nodded slightly, “And for that I believe the galaxy owes you a great debt,” he said quietly. “The future is clouded, has been for some time. It seems the Sith have been preparing a long time for this. Every glimpse I have received has related to your son, and every one has been a different path. I do not feel comfortable with one person having so much power.”

“Then you don’t know Anakin very well,” Xan smiled honestly now, “He’s a little reckless, a little flamboyant and dramatic, yes. But he’s nine, he’ll grow into himself.”

Xan lost the smile now, and let some of his shielding drop. He needed this man to understand that he knew what he was talking about, and was just as concerned for the future of the galaxy as him, if not in the same respects.

“But know this, Master Windu, he is my son. And as the Jedi might say, I am _attached_ to him. Shatterpoint he may be, and I’m going to do my damndest to make sure he sends us down a pleasant path, but _never_ try to take my son from me unwillingly. Understood?”

Windu nodded slowly and Xan inclined his head before turning to leave.

Apparently he wasn’t done though, and Windu asked one last question, “If he becomes head of the Sith, as I have seen in a few shades?”

Xan felt a shudder crawl down his spine at the thought of his bright, brilliant son falling to those depths, but knew the answer. He was Captain Jyhn, father of Anakin, but he had been _soki_ of the _Helshai_ of Whispering Trees for far longer, and he knew his duty to the _Liy-tha_.

“We of Dathomir police our own,” Xan said simply. “I will do my duty, but hope it will not come to that.”

“As do I, Captain. Thank you.”

Xan looked back at the Korun, and said quietly, “Our grief to yours.”

He wanted the last word, so quickly left. Besides, the Jedi Master would have probably blathered something about how he didn’t feel grief for his friend’s death, as there was no death in the Force. He doubted the rather solid first impression he’d made would be enhanced by breaking the Master of the Jedi Order’s nose, even if he did deserve it at that point.

Now he had to find Obi-Wan and make sure he was coping with the news he was being promoted. It would be typical for someone to swoop in and undo all his hard work to stabilize his emotions with a few sentences.

===***===pagebreak===***===

Anakin let out a sigh of relief when he spotted his _fatre_ heading back to them. He wasn’t agitated or frustrated like he had expected, which was good because he hadn’t been able to find Verdi. “What’d they want?” he asked as soon as Xan was within earshot.

“Just needed to chat about you,” Xan winked, “Had to make sure they wouldn’t be trying to steal you away to be a Jedi, didn’t I?”

“They wouldn’t, I’m too old!” Anakin insisted, aghast at the idea of anyone trying to take him away from Xan, even if it was for something awesome like becoming a Jedi.

“They wouldn’t, because I’d kill them,” Xan retorted cheerfully, happy smile belying the deadly serious intent the Force indicated was behind that statement. Obi-Wan looked startled at it, but Anakin just threw himself at Xan, wrapping his arms around his neck while Xan returned the embrace easily.

“Thanks _fatre_ ,” Anakin mumbled. That was his _favorite_ part of being part of Xan’s crew, and his _fatres_ son. His mother had tried, he knew, but with being a slave there was only so much she would have been able to protect him from. With Xan, he knew there were limits to Xan’s abilities but he also knew that when Xan said he’d do anything to keep Anakin safe and happy, he _meant_ it.

“Course, I wouldn’t kill Obi-Wan, I’d kidnap him and you’d have an uncle,” Xan winked at the Jedi, smiling at Obi-Wan’s start of surprise, the padawan echoing the smile with one of his own.

“Woah,” Anakin twisted to look at Obi-Wan, “You really _are_ an uncle – I have an uncle! Awesome!”

He quickly abandoned Xan’s embrace and lunged for Obi-Wan, who stood stiffly while Anakin clung to him.

Rolling his eyes, Anakin insisted, “Obiiiii-Waaaaan.”

The Jedi’s arms came up slowly and returned the embrace gingerly, apparently not entirely sure what to do with a limpet-like attachment.

“We’ll work on that,” Anakin informed him as he let him go, returning to standing at his side, Xan snickering at Obi-Wan’s alarmed expression.

“Sorry Obi-Wan, you’re stuck with us I’m afraid,” Xan informed him, draping an arm across the Jedi’s shoulder and steering him towards the palace exit. Getting back to work for the distraction was just what the doctor ordered. “Once Anakin latches on, you’ll never escape.”

“Muhahahaha,” Anakin said flatly, glaring at Xan, “I’m not a demented ­ _limpet, fatre_.”

“No, you’re _my_ limpet. Which is basically the same thing,” Xan smirked, “Now come on, back to work. We want the central city cleaned up for tomorrow’s parade!”

===***===pagebreak===***===

Obi-Wan felt completely off-balance after his master died. When Anakin had burst in and started expounding on his own adventures he had seized the distraction gladly, grateful beyond words when he didn’t push for a more thorough explanation. He had already given it to the queen when he explained where Qui-Gon’s body lay, he couldn’t repeat it just yet.

The next few days passed in a blur of repair work and Anakin, the boy a constant presence except for the brief times he went to talk to the Queen. He barely remembered to eat, only getting sustenance when he was dragged to a table or had food shoved into his hands. His master was _dead_. He thought he had moved passed his attachment problems, but he had been fooling himself. Master Qui-Gon…

He had forgotten the strong resemblance between father and son and when Captain Jyhn had arrived he couldn’t help staring. He had barely been able to keep himself from breaking down in the hallway, he was only grateful he had managed to keep control until the Queen and her handmaiden left.

Suns he even _hugged_ like his Master.

To his embarrassment, he hadn’t been able to make it through his report without breaking down again, the Captain at least not making any fuss about it. He could only imagine what the response would have been if he’d broken down like that in front of the Council, stars how humiliating! With the Captain he wasn’t on edge about his emotional chaos, he knew the man didn’t follow the same principles as the Jedi with regards to the Force, just look at how he had taught Anakin, so there was no pressure to remain in control beyond his own expectations.

Meditation had been another hurdle – Anakin’s presence was a beacon that nearly blinded him the first time they took over one of the gardens, he must have been using that odd shielding technique when they’d meditated together on the ship. After he had adapted to that he had taken a look at Captain Jyhn’s Force presence and barely managed to remain in trance. It was different from his Master’s, of course, but that strong connection to the Living Force and simple, grounded _presence_ was something he hadn’t seen in any of the other Force sensitives he’d meditated with except his Master.

Stars he missed him.

To his relief, he wasn’t asked to explain what had happened after the first time. Instead he was introduced to their other crewmember, a Corellian doctor who had to be something besides human with his naturally green hair, and dragged with them to find places to help. Lifting rubble and aiding in the relief work was mind-numbing and exhausting, but exactly what he needed. He was doing good, and wasn’t required to think beyond the next task.

Without Anakin and the Captain he probably would have worked until he passed out those first days, but they dragged him away to rest and eat. Before long he was remembering himself and had managed to pre-empt their interference a few times, ache at the absence of his Master’s teasing fading ever so slightly.

By the time the Jedi Council summoned them, he had almost gotten back to normal. A shaky normal, but growing more solid with every day he managed to wake up and be useful without his Master’s solid presence in the back of his mind to assure him he would be fine.

His report had been a picture of professionalism. Thank the Force he had gotten his hysteria out of the way with the Captain and Anakin, otherwise Yoda’s insistence he be promoted would be completely invalidated.

The relief he felt at the news he wouldn’t be forced to take another Master was intense, and shaming. If he had been found unfit to be promoted, what would he have done, taken his grief out on his next Master? That was inappropriate and unprofessional. He had thought he was doing better, but apparently he was still far too attached to the memory of his Master.

He scrambled to remember what had happened with Barris. When Master Tal had been killed, Barris hadn’t been ready to be promoted either and she was assigned a new Master – had she been equally upset at the idea? He hadn’t thought to ask, so wrapped up in proving himself worthy to rejoin the Order. He had done her a disservice, he’d have to correct that.

When his report was finished, it was his turn to distract Anakin, who was strangely anxious about his father’s private meeting with the Jedi Council. By their reactions during the meeting, Anakin wasn’t particularly _happy_ with the Council, but he hadn’t gotten any such feeling from the Captain.

It also served to distract him from the thought of his upcoming promotion. He was to be promoted here, and then he’d be on solo missions. He knew already he would be hit with his Master’s loss even harder on his first mission. He had thought he’d have time to _prepare_ for this. He’d get notice from Master Qui-Gon that he was going to be put up for the Trials, if he passed, he’d have a transition period of around a month to get into new quarters, gradually get used to the idea of solo missions before being sent out on a few test missions where he’d be able, and encouraged, to call his Master for advice.

Who could he call now? With Master Qui-Gon _dead_ and his promotion imminent, Obi-Wan knew his first missions would be hard. He already had a few times where he’d memorize a particular encounter for the purpose of telling his Master, who’d find it amusing or interesting, only to be hit with the loss _again_.

He had to wonder if it would ever stop or if he would walk around the rest of his life feeling like a limb was missing, if only he could just _find_ it.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin interrupted his thoughts, “You all right?”

He looked down at him, startled, before saying honestly, “Almost.”

Anakin just smiled sadly, “Yeah. I get that. You _going_ to be all right? I can hear your brain whirring from here!”

“Just thinking about being promoted. I’ll be on solo missions now,” Obi-Wan explained, “Usually there’s a transition period where I’m encouraged to call Master Qui-Gon for help but…”

“You can call us!” Anakin offered brightly, Obi-Wan blinking in surprise at the offer. He didn’t know how much help these two would be on Jedi matters, but the offer was nice.

Any response was delayed by the arrival of the Captain, who certainly didn’t _seem_ like he was experiencing any distress from his meeting with the Jedi Council. Good, he hadn’t stopped Anakin from urgently calling Doctor Verdi erroneously.

“What’d they want?” Anakin asked immediately.

“Just needed to chat about you,” the Captain replied, wink and a smile indicating he was at least partially teasing, “Had to make sure they wouldn’t be trying to steal you away to be a Jedi, didn’t I?”

Obi-Wan smiled slightly at Anakin’s aghast retort. He was right, he was too old for the Jedi Council to consider, and far too attached to his father for the effort to result in anything but grief for all parties, but it was still fun to watch the two banter.

“They wouldn’t, because I’d kill them,” the Captain insisted, Obi-Wan startled at the declaration. He could tell that the Captain was serious about his response; if anyone, much less the Jedi, tried to take Anakin from him he would respond with prejudice. He doubted the Captain would _succeed_ necessarily—maybe in getting Anakin from the first agents sent, but he’d quickly become an exile and pariah for killing Jedi, but the fact he was so clearly _willing_ to do so was startling.

With a pang, he remembered all the times his Master had made a similar, if less violent, choice when he had been in danger. He had never thanked him for it, not like Anakin was now. He had never—he had _scolded_ his Master for it when now he could clearly see that he’d have done the same for a chance to get his Master back.

That was _dangerous_. Suns, no matter how relieved he was, _why_ was the Council promoting him? He was nowhere _near_ ready.

The sudden shift in the conversation’s seriousness surprised him, and the declaration that he would be Anakin’s _uncle_ was completely bizarre. Jedi didn’t have families, that’s all there was to it. The Order and the Force was their family, that was all they would need.

His scramble for a reasonable response was waylaid by Anakin suddenly attaching himself to him, the limpet comparison all too understandable now. At his insistence he hesitantly returned the hug as he had seen the Captain do – Anakin did this all the time? No wonder the random launches didn’t throw the Captain off, he probably expected Anakin to try and tackle him all the time!

And they would _work_ on it? Anakin was going to do this _again?_

Something must have shown on his face, because the Captain laughed and draped an arm over his shoulders, propelling them to the exit. “Sorry Obi-Wan, you’re stuck with us I’m afraid,” he said, soon returning to bantering with Anakin.

Obi-Wan didn’t know how to respond to it. The relief he felt that these two weren’t just going to let him go and vanish on him was inappropriate for a Jedi but…not something he was willing to let go of. He _wanted_ to stay in touch with them. As much as the idea of Anakin finding him an uncle terrified him, the idea of never seeing them again except by chance was worse.

Fear was even _more_ inappropriate for a Jedi, so his obvious attachment to the duo was clearly the lesser evil. He could work on that. If he knew that they would be around, he wouldn’t so desperately cling to them, he just had to get used to it. This was a temporary dependency caused by the shock of losing his Master. As he recovered, he’d be able to slowly cut them out to casual acquaintances once more.

Yes, yes, he could do that.

===***===pagebreak===***===

Anakin _loved_ the parade.

He was standing up with Padme and Obi-Wan, his father and Verdi in the crowds on the street instead at their own insistence, so he couldn’t exactly be as exuberant as he usually was in awesome public parties, but it was still cool. Besides, seeing the city as it was _meant_ to be, throbbing with joy and people and noise, not a forced quiet of terror and hate, made it even _more_ beautiful. Naboo was amazing!

And he had helped bring this about, he had helped _conquer_ that fear and hatred, pushing it away so people could be happy again! It was a dizzying notion, and one he definitely wouldn’t mind experiencing again. He could really help people, and not just people, whole _peoples_. Maybe his dream of one day freeing the slaves wasn’t so far-fetched after all, not if he’d helped liberate a planet already.

The only thing that would have made it better was Gramps’ presence. Obi-Wan still felt shaky, subdued in the Force. He had an appropriate smile on his face right now, but Anakin knew by now that Obi-Wan’s face seldom reflected what was actually going on with him. He was just too good at pretending he was fine.

The promotion hadn’t helped, when Obi-Wan explained that he was going to be a Knight and thrown into solo missions, Anakin had nearly thrown a fit. He _had_ ranted at his _fatre_ and Verdi that night in their shared quarters, throwing his hands around and stomping as he explained exactly why those _kriffing poodoo_ eating Jedi Councilors were utter _morons_. Seriously? His Master had just _died_ and they were going to ship him off in the galaxy to make him work it off all alone? Distraction was all well and good, but those down times in a solo mission would be horrible! Looking over his shoulder to share a joke or insight and then realize that there wasn’t anyone there and there _never would be again?_ It was like staying with Verdi’s family or with _fa-Matre_ while Xan and Verdi went on a job except a bajillion times worse!

 _Kriffing_ Jedi Council.

At least Obi-Wan would have them to call. Anakin was sure he’d have to call him a few times just to make sure Obi-Wan didn’t just “lose” their number and remind him that the offer was open, but he wasn’t going to lose his new uncle now. And definitely not because of some stupid decision made by a bunch of dumb old people.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked quietly, jerking him out of his mental mutterings about the Jedi Council. He jerked up and smiled sheepishly at Obi-Wan, who was watching him with some concern, “Sorry Obi-Wan! Just thinking.”

“Don’t think so loud then,” Obi-Wan chided with a small smile, Anakin weighing the pros and cons of sticking out his tongue at the Jedi before deciding against it. It wasn’t like Obi-Wan was even watching now.

Aw man, he had missed some of Padme`’s speech!

===***===pagebreak===***===

Verdi kept an eye on Xan that evening. They had declined standing with Obi-Wan and Anakin at the parade since they hadn’t been involved in the actual liberation of Naboo. He had declined standing with the pair of them at the funeral too, claiming that he really hadn’t known Qui-Gon that well, so didn’t deserve to stand in the close comrades “section”.

From Xan and Anakin’s grumblings and suspicious silences, the reason probably had far more to do with keeping the Jedi Council at ease than it did relative degrees of closeness to the deceased. As much as Xan denied really being affected by the fact his father was now dead, Verdi didn’t need sensitivity to the Force to know Xan had been looking forward to meeting the man his mother had always brushed off with a brief, “He was a _Jai_ , name of Qui-Gon Jinn. He does not know of you”, especially after Anakin had such good things to report.

The Dathomiri could claim there was no need for a father, Verdi remembered finding a half-starved and delirious teenager desperate for some sort of anchor and disagreed. Maybe having a father wouldn’t have saved Xan from those circumstances, but it damn well may have given him a stronger foundation to work with. Having that hope for even one face-to-face meeting crushed by fate was far worse than having it crushed by rejection. Rejection didn’t leave any space for might-have-beens to take root.

Xan and he were near the back of the small crowd, watching the pyre that had been set alight by Obi-Wan. It was a very simple funerary right, no words spoken, no eulogy given, just a solemn witnessing of the consumption of a body by flames.

Verdi had seen enough bodies go through incineration that he didn’t find the process particularly compelling, though the resemblance to Xan made the experience a little foreboding. To avoid that unease, he split his attention between Xan and Ani, who looked a little pale standing next to Obi-Wan, but not on the verge of a breakdown.

Xan was staring at the flames, arms crossed over his chest and back straight in a manner suggesting conscious effort. His expression was almost serene but Verdi recognized the slight thinning of his lips, Xan wasn’t as unaffected as he would like to seem. Curse those Jedi bastards, he swore, they wouldn’t let Xan _know_ the man, the least they could do was let him mourn! But no, Xan had to be the picture of an indifferent bystander, only a modicum of compassion for the death of a stranger permitted.

The Correllians did it better. At least they were allowed to have families and didn’t have to have unfeeling rods stuck up their asses--!

“Verdi, you’re scowling,” Xan muttered out of the side of his mouth.

Verdi carefully smoothed his expression, forcibly turning his thoughts _away_ from the Jedi as he asked, “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine. Ani’s the one I’m worried about. He’s not going to want to leave in a few days.”

“So soon?” Verdi asked with a raised eyebrow, letting the subject change slide. He could use it anyway. Besides, if he waited until they were all in hyperspace, Xan would have less space to dodge.

“We have messages to carry and some cargo that was stuck here because of the blockade,” Xan replied, “They want us off as soon as we can and it’s good money. The delay really hiked up the price of Nubian goods.”

Xan hesitated, before murmuring, “Besides, something’s wrong, the planet still feels… _shrouded_ , for lack of a better word. I don’t like it. It was getting better until a few days ago, but then it just…darkened again.”

“Ani got anything?” Verdi asked lowly.

Xan shook his head in frustration, “No, that’s the problem. And I can’t tell if it’s because he’s so focused on Obi-Wan and keeping him afloat in addition to his own grief, or if I’m just delusional. So I want to get away and see if the feeling leaves with Naboo.”

Verdi hmmed in response. They watched the pyre for a few more minutes in silence before Verdi murmured, “A few days ago? That’s when…”

“Yeah. The Council arrived,” Xan’s expression was carefully calm, but his mouth was a thin line with worry. “I could just blame it on the politicians that came with but…it’s a bit of a coincidence, don’t you think? Ani talks about the bloody shroud on Coruscant, then when the Coruscant ship gets here it comes along for the ride?”

“If the _Council_ is falling—“

“But I don’t think they _are_ ,” Xan hissed, before sighing, “Look, not here, all right? I need…I need to think about it a bit. And right now we’re in the middle of a funeral, not really the best place for it.”

“Right, right,” Verdi replied absently, taking his own conclusion and running with it. It didn’t take very long before he could finish that sentence with confidence.

If the Council was falling, they were completely _screwed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just want to get it out of the way: The views expressed by my characters do not reflect the entirety of my views regarding issues like the Jedi Council's intelligence, the importance of a clearly defined male authority figure in childhood development, among others.
> 
> Now that that's out of the way, happy to say I've finally FINISHED the first movie, so now I get to work on the apprenticeship years...
> 
> Please don't expect super frequent updates--school's started, it's life sucking, and I really need to do some timeline research for this next chunk.
> 
> Hope I captured the different characters' voices well!


	9. Interlude: The Message

Qui-Gon sat in front of their suite’s comm. unit long after Anakin and Obi-Wan had retired. He had known there was something Anakin was keeping from them, and Obi-Wan hadn’t looked too surprised, but a _son_. Not something he would ever have guessed.

Oh he hadn’t been celibate, but he’d been chaste and _careful_ when he found the right partner. He had known that leaving a child behind would be irresponsible when he couldn’t support or aid them at all, not with the current Code, and his not being Corellian. Besides, he had no real desire for children – Padawans were exhausting enough and that started at ten! Trying to deal with the younglings full time? He’d go mad!

But it seemed the Force had different plans for him, and his careful steps had been knocked aside by one determined woman and some drugged tea. At least that explained why he’d never been able to get his brew from those leaves to taste the same as Helshai – Force, he hadn’t even remembered her _name_ before Anakin let it slip.

He knew that he was taking what was essentially rape rather calmly, but it had been decades ago. Not only that, but he didn’t actually _remember_ anything of it – it was more along the lines of being a sperm donor through some clinic than having an active role in procreation. The fact that it was also clearly the will of the Force aided in the distancing from any reaction.

But that was to Helshai and her actions, not to the notion that he had a _son_ , a _child_ , to whom he owed _something_. It was clear Captain Jyhn had been raised knowing that Qui-Gon had no idea he even existed, and even if he did would not be able to provide any sort of parental support due to his vows, but continuing on without even acknowledging his absence in the boy’s life was simply wrong.

So, he was sitting in front of a comm. unit with the comm. account number already typed in, all he had to do was record and send the message. But what could he say?

He shook his head ruefully and leaned forward to press the record button. He was over-thinking this, just as he had always chided his Padawan to avoid. The Force would guide him, he simply needed to start talking and allow it to work through him.

“Greetings,” he said, smiling slightly, “I’m Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, and apparently when Anakin asked to call me Gramps it wasn’t just a play on our surnames being similar.”

Looking down at the holo Anakin had produced, of the three crew members of the _Djinn_ in front of a truly magnificent hydroponics unit, he continued slowly, “I’m… I’m truly surprised. Helshai – well, she certainly knew what she was doing with that tea, I don’t remember a thing. And for that I apologize.”

Returning his gaze to the recorder, he said, “I am a member of the Coruscanti Order, meaning we forbid attachment, particularly that of family, so while I was not celibate, I was careful, knowing that anyone I left behind would be truly abandoned and that was unfair. If I had known – I cannot promise that I would have done anything. I don’t think I really _would_ have done much, but I could have at least sent birthing day greetings or something, I do that for many friends and the children of friends all ready, it would have been easy to cover up from the Council.”

Smiling wryly, he admitted, “All in the past, and immutable, however, so it does no one any good to brood over it. I repeatedly remind Obi-Wan to live in the present, he puts his heads in the clouds and gets so _worried_ over what the future might bring, I have to remind him that we must _get_ there first, and here I am drifting off in what might-have-beens.”

“I suppose I simply wanted to assure you that while you might not expect anything – and I can’t offer much, particularly now that you are an adult and father in your own right – I would like to get to know you, as a friend if not as a son.”

Smiling as he looked at the holo again, he chuckled ruefully, “Sorry about the nose, though. That seems to have bred true.”

“I look forward to meeting you, Xanfrei, if it is all right to call you that,” he amended. “And I’ll look after Anakin.”

“Goodbye, and in the words of your mother’s people, _Liy-tha, soki.”_

===***===pagebreak===***===

Xan hit the pause button on the recording, freezing Qui-Gon in the act of smiling after his farewell. They were in their second day of the post-blockade trade run, having just dropped off a shipment of Nubian champagne that had been delayed and gotten a nice bonus for the extra they’d brought along.

He had waited until Anakin was asleep and Verdi was, if not asleep, reading journals alone in his quarters to view the message he’d been putting off. First because he was too worried about Anakin, then because he was too busy with repair work, and most recently because he was simply worried. This was all the closure he was going to be getting to his lifelong mystery, the only words his father would ever say to him.

He had thought he’d be more upset.

Sitting back in his chair and frowning at the smiling face on the screen, he crossed his arms over his chest and pondered. His father, the mysterious _Jai_ his mother had always brushed off with a few words, was a good man. From everything Anakin had said and implied, from the grief Obi-Wan felt, he knew that and was certain of it. It was a nice thing to know, that his father had been a good man. But he had already known that, hadn’t he? If he was a _Jai_ , it was a little difficult to be anything but what he would call a good person. Maybe some were arrogant asses, but still good people.

So Qui-Gon was a Jedi he actually might have become friends with and honestly respected after a few awkward meetings. He was disappointed they no longer had that chance, another friend is always nice to have (particularly one as useful as a _Jai_ ) but not devastated or even particularly grieved at his death except in a sort-of sympathetic grief for Anakin and Obi-Wan.

He thought on it a while more, musing on fathers, sons and what it meant to be either. Qui-Gon was his father, in a different way than he was Anakin’s. Some would claim in a more important way, but not him. Biology – nose aside – was not a defining feature, and he doubted his connection to Anakin would be made any stronger if they somehow ended up biologically related too.

So, perhaps it wasn’t that he wasn’t upset about his father’s death. He truly wasn’t upset about his _father’s_ death. He didn’t really have a paternal figure or presence in his life, no Dathomiri child really did, unless Verdi counted and he was more of an older brother slash best friend than anything paternal.

He was upset about a potential friend’s death, about the death of a person close to his son, who he did have great affection for, but that was it. And for that, his degree of grief seemed within reason and nothing abnormal.

But why didn’t Verdi grasp that? He kept watching him with worry, as if he was going to break down in tears because oh so sad, he would never know his _father_. But he didn’t _need_ to know his father, he had known who his father was, that he wasn’t around, and that was enough. Maybe if he’d been raised somewhere where father’s were more important to a child’s identity it would have mattered, but his _having_ his father’s last name had been more abnormal than anything else in Dathomir. The absence of it, or the use of some matronym, would have been far more usual.

Verdi just didn’t understand Dathomir. Anakin either, to be honest. They both liked it there, Anakin had friends and a deep love for the place due to the _Liy-tha_ ’ _s_ connection, but they didn’t _understand_. They never would, not with their hang-up on fathers. Verdi thought Xan was searching for one, having some _lack_ in his life, while Anakin had scrambled to find one, even though he was raised without, and latched on when Xan had realized he was more attached than he’d expected. He’d insisted on taking Xan’s name, had actually been _worried_ Xan wouldn’t want him to keep Skywalker.

Mothers were everything, he’d never take that from him. Ever.

Fathers were just… convenient. A good substitute, if a mother wasn’t available, like with Anakin out here in space. He loved his _soki_ , would do anything for his happiness, but that was what was due anyone he truly cared about, not just his son. There were some things they just didn’t get.

Fathers. Bah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working on Obi-Wan's escape attempt, but Qui-Gon and Xan wanted to get their word in. Originally I just was going to have Qui-Gon's perspective, but Xan demanded the right to be heard. So, their musings on parentage.


	10. The Great Escape: Doomed to Fail

Verdi looked over at Anakin and had to grin. The kid was positively _glaring_ at the comm unit. It had been eight months since Obi-Wan’s last call, one of three, and it seemed Anakin was taking his lack of correspondence personally. “What did the comm unit ever do to you, brat?” Verdi teased, unable to resist.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin cried, whirling around to turn the glare on him, hands on his hips. “He’s being stupid, and isn’t calling anymore! Three calls! Three! It’s been a year since Naboo, almost, and three measly calls? _Kriffing_ _Jai!_ ”

“Eh now, maybe he’s on a longer mission,” Xan pointed out, dropping into a seat next to Verdi. They were in the old mess, now a mixed mess-lounge-garden, where they usually lurked on hyperspace jumps. They had just left Corellia after one of Verdi’s visits to his kids (his eldest had just graduated from university, stars he felt old) and were heading back out towards the outer rim, with their next stop being Bespin.

“No way!” Anakin snorted, “I piggy-backed his last messages and get a ping every time he sends one out. He’s been to Coruscant and back out twice since the last call about that mission to Telos.”

Verdi raised an eyebrow and turned to Xan, waiting and smacking himself in the face when Xan merely nodded thoughtfully, “Where is he now?”

“Really Xan?” he sighed, before turning to Anakin and saying, “You sure you can’t be tracked back with it?”

“Nope, bounced it through a couple systems first and all it is is a ping, really. It’s not even planetary information, it’s the day’s top local business stock rate, with the date in Standard. Wrote an algorithm up to translate that into planet of origin,” Anakin shrugged, before turning to Xan and saying, “Last one was on Toprawa, a day ago. It was the first one on that planet, so he’ll probably be there at least a week.”

“Toprawa huh?” Xan fiddled with the end of his braid thoughtfully. “Toprawa… I think we can swing that after Bespin.”

“Excellent,” Anakin cackled, “I’ll get to work on cargo scheduling.”

“It’ll be nice to see him again,” Verdi nodded, returning to his medical journal.

He decided to ignore the mutterings about Force suppressors and the technical legal definitions of kidnapping, making a mental note to double-check his stock of headache relievers. This trip was going to be a doozy.

***===***pagebreak***===***

Obi-Wan had not had a particularly good year. After Naboo and his Master’s death he had been fully invested as a Knight, given a week to settle and then he was sent off on his first solo-mission, with the understanding that Mace would gladly answer his calls for assistance and advice, serving as a stand-in for Qui-Gon.

He was rather proud that he’d only had to call once, and it had been more for a status report than any true aid being needed. He had also managed to maintain his composure the entire time despite the constant reminders of his master’s absence. It had taken him half the mission to get used to people looking to _him_ as if he were the ultimate authority on the matter, rather than the Jedi Master who was really in charge (there wasn’t one and it hurt so much to realize there wouldn’t be ever again).

Anakin had been happy to hear from him and though he hesitated to admit it, even to himself, he had been happy to hear from the boy too. It was nice to have that connection there, someone so simply happy and unconnected from anything he was involved with.

But he had realized rather quickly that he was becoming rather attached, and he couldn’t betray the trust Qui-Gon and the Council was showing in him by breaking the code so quickly after they had made him a Knight, so he avoided answering his calls and kept the few answers he did send short and to the point rather than friendly letters. He seemed to have succeeded, as he hadn’t heard from Anakin in near eight months (he ignored the pang at that, the hurt that he had been abandoned by yet-another person).

His solo missions had gone well, he had succeeded in every one and if they were easier and simpler than the ones he and his master had gone on, well, that was only to be expected. If the more complicated ones took longer to solve because he wasn’t part of a team anymore, well that was only to be expected too.

If he sometimes doubted heavily that he was doing his job right, felt like sobbing that he wasn’t ready for this, he just wanted everyone to go away and solve their _own damn problems_ couldn’t they see he was _grieving_ well, that was something he would need to meditate on and work through. Because it clearly wasn’t healthy to still be so effected by and attached to the memory of his master.

He ignored the mental whisper that he had been feeling better before Captain Jyhn and Anakin left, that he had been coming to terms with his loss when he’d been allowed to cry and mourn and grieve for his loss, not just shove it aside and move on as if it hadn’t happened because there was no death in the Force. He was a Jedi, ergo, his attachment was wrong and he had failed. In order to become a better Jedi, he needed to get over it, and the best way to do that was to ignore the attachment indicators. They’d go away eventually.

(Psychologists everywhere felt a sudden urge to grab the nearest person by the shoulders and shake them violently.)

In fact, he hadn’t thought about them in some time, and the only reason he was now probably had something to do with the fact that he had nothing better to do, having been caught by poachers when the trap he’d set with the Antarian Rangers chapter had been sprung. It had been sprung a little too well, and they’d had deals with slavers as well as exotic animal handlers, meaning they had force-suppressant cuffs and bomb collars.

Wasn’t this nostalgic? All they were missing was a mining operation in the middle of an ocean, planet destabilizing bombs and a fallen Jedi trying to drive Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon apart.

He was currently feigning unconsciousness (cuffs or not, he could still use the Force to enhance his hearing and recover from electro-staff shocks faster than they expected) in an effort to gain some sort of advantage or at least delay things long enough the Rangers could come up with a plan to get him out. He’d left his lightsaber with them along with his identi-cards, so they thought he was simply a Ranger brat rather than a fully-trained Jedi, so he had some advantage.

Hearing a slight commotion, he nearly groaned when he recognized the sound of the skiff they were using to transport the unconscious animals (and him, eventually) to the ship they had hidden. The Rangers had been hoping to track the skiff to the ship, so maybe this was an ambush, but he somewhat doubted it. They were at least half a continent away from where he’d been grabbed in the trap-that-failed. They always seemed to.

“Bout time you guys showed up!” one of the men standing watch over the bounty shouted as the skiff drew closer. “You’re late!”

“Couldn’t be avoided,” the Twi’lek driver shrugged, Obi-Wan wishing that he could sense something with the Force outside of himself, but as it was the suppressors prevented it entirely. It was all he could do (thanks to practice and truly ridiculously complicated missions as a padawan) to enhance his hearing and use it internally.

“Yeah, yeah, excuses – hey, what the hell-?”

He was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of crunching bone, two other guards who’d been with them jumping up in surprise and Obi-Wan’s eyes flew open and he struggled to move to catch a glimpse of what was going on. He wasn’t able to suppress a nauseated groan at the motion, disconnection from the Force extremely disorienting, and he could feel gazes snap over to him at the motion.

“Don’t move!” the Toprawan woman they’d guessed was one of the ringleaders said, holding a remote in her hand and having a mad gleam in her eye, “Don’t move or I press this button and the boy dies! That’s who you’re here for, right? The kid?”

Obi-Wan internally grumbled about being called a kid, as he was over twenty years old, thank you very much, but didn’t move, not wanting to provoke her. The collar around his throat felt tighter, all of a sudden, chafing and burning all the more now that he knew his head could be blown off at any moment if she wasn’t appeased. How he _loathed_ these collars.

“I find it rather amusing you think that if the boy dies, you’ll actually live to see another day,” he knew that voice, Obi-Wan realized, he knew that voice _so well_ but there was something wrong, his Master was never that cold, that – that implacable, that threatening. “Because you’re right, he is who we’re here for. But you have a choice now. You can put that down, release the boy, and be arrested for poaching and slaving, serving a term for a few years maybe a decade or two in prison. You’ll have a chance to bargain with your own information, save a few years off it, and even get out and continue with your life. Or, you can press that button, and kill my brother, and I can take great pleasure in slowly peeling your skin away from your body and making a suit-coat out of your flesh. Human leather is quite the commodity if you know where to sell after all.”

“You’re – you’re a Ranger – you’re with the Rangers you wouldn’t – “

“Oh you mean these fellows?” Obi-Wan could hear footsteps, the speaker moving slowly, and he opened his eyes again, glimpsing some of the Rangers he’d worked with on this whole thing out of the corner of his eyes. But that didn’t make any sense, why would the Rangers be working with -?

“I asked around, looking for my brother, and they said they had an idea where he was. I volunteered to help out. I’m not with them, but I’ve offered enough help that they owe me. And if I decide I’m owed your blood and screams, why would they stop me? It’s certainly cheaper for them in the long run.”

“…All right. All right. I’m putting it down.”

“Ani? Get the remote, you know how to disarm them.”

“On it _fatre_.”

Obi-Wan’s mind went blank. He had recognized the voice as similar to his Master’s, heart-breakingly so, but what the _hell_ were those two doing here? How had they gotten here? What business did they have on Toprawa? And how in stars name had they found him?

The stalemate was broken and he could hear and see people bustling around to arrest and contain the poachers, a sunny-haired and smiled face appearing above him and Anakin grinned, saying, “Long time no see Obi-Wan! Here, let me get that collar off you.”

The collar was soon off and tossed away with a look of loathing on Anakin’s face, Obi-Wan slowly sitting up to avoid nauseating himself more. “How are you?” Anakin asked cheerfully, “Not too great now I imagine but – hey, where are you?”

“…Right in front of you?” Obi-Wan replied, brow furrowed as he watched Anakin go distant eyed as he seemed to be thinking about something.

“But not in the Force in the Force you’re like this… this hole,” Anakin frowned, poking at him suspiciously, “What did you _do_ to yourself?”

Tina Sarkin, one of the Rangers he’d worked closest with these past weeks on the mission, crouched next to them and frowned, saying quietly, “He’s right, Kenobi, you’re missing from the Force – any ideas?”

“Missing?” that familiar voice said, and Obi-Wan looked up to see Captain Jyhn staring down at them with an impressive frown, which quickly morphed to a snarl as he saw the cuffs on Obi-Wan’s wrists. Crouching, he grabbed at them and hissed, “Force-suppressant cuffs, the bastards. Where the hell did they get these? They’re damn expensive.”

“Force-suppressant cuffs?” Tina repeated doubtfully, “Never heard of them.”

“Because they’re damn expensive!” Xanfrei growled, “Only the most selective of slavers can afford them, drugs are a hell of a lot cheaper and easier to maintain. This is _not_ some average poaching operation with these in play.”

“Great,” Sarkin sighed, eyeing the cuffs and Obi-Wan’s pale features, her gaze softening slightly, “You can’t sense anything, can you?”

“It’s really disorienting,” Obi-Wan replied instead, “Can we get them off? Reconnecting is always nauseating so I’d recommend standing back, I’ll probably hurl.”

“Always?” Anakin yelped, “You’ve done this before?”

“A few times,” Obi-Wan shrugged fatalistically, “When people want to stop Jedi, they spare no expense.”

Tina opened her mouth to say something before quickly backing away, Xanfrei finished with the cuffs and they fell from Obi-Wan’s wrists, Force flooding back to him – _light life so bright that’s unconscious oh there’s some anger colors swirling life so many lives death there’s death of course it’s life spinning around the axis spinning around the sun spiraling through the sector twirling around the arm rotating around the core so confusing ugh there’s bright-like-the-sun ground where was he what was going on anchor need an anchor –_

As always, he was left huddled on the ground groaning as the Force resettled around him, the Rangers unnerved and worried while Anakin babbled in concern. The only unworried presence was that strong grounding in the _present_ that seemed to be a Jyhn (Jinn?) specialty.

“Back with us?” the Captain asked quietly, hand on his shoulder and Obi-Wan nodded blearily, accepting the hand up. Anakin quickly attached himself to Obi-Wan’s side, and the three of them were waved off by the Rangers to sit on the skiff and wait for them to get everything cleared up and processed properly.

“What are you two _doing_ here?” he finally asked, accepting his lightsaber and other equipment back from one of the Rangers gratefully.

“Hunting you down,” Anakin replied cheerfully, “Haven’t heard from you in eight months and I _knew_ you weren’t on a long-term mission so I pulled some strings with _fatre_ and got a job out in the same direction as you were. Good thing we came along to looks like you found trouble!”

“As per usual,” Obi-Wan replied dryly, shaking his head, “But… why?”

“Why what, look for you?” Anakin stared at him like he’d lost his mind, “Because you’re _family_. And because we’re not going to just ditch you now that Gramps is gone. I mean sure, I didn’t know him well, but he was family, and you did, so that makes you family. And I told you I wouldn’t let family go. You couldn’t think we’d just give up on you if you forgot to call!”

Obi-Wan didn’t know how to tell Anakin that he’d sort of hoped (no, not really, hoped the opposite but he was very good at lying to himself) that they had. It would make his attachment to them go away (who was he kidding) if they just let him forget they’d really met and gotten along. He was grateful, of course, but – he’d made so much progress (lies) and he just wanted – he just didn’t want to be a failure as a Jedi.

An arm settled around his shoulders and tugged him in, Obi-Wan resisting only a moment before slumping against Captain Jyhn, eyes remaining blessedly dry as he just let himself drift, knowing if he thought too hard about anything right now he’d lose what little composure he’d managed to cling too. Murmured voices and questions drifted over him but he couldn’t bring himself to worry about it. He was exhausted, disoriented, and still felt a little ill from the Force reconnection process and the various injuries and electro-shock jabs he’d gotten over the course of the mission. And Force, for once, for _once_ , no one was staring at him as if he had all the answers when all he wanted to do was crack and shatter at the seams and _grieve._

He was allowed to remain in that blessedly half-aware state for some time, by the time he came out of it they were back in the Ranger’s base, Tina watching him worriedly, “Back with us, Knight Kenobi?” she asked.

“Yes,” he rubbed at his eyes tiredly, sitting up from the comfortable bench he’d been half-stretched out on. “How long have I been out?”

“About three hours,” she replied, hand settling on his shoulder as she scanned him with her eyes. He felt a little uncomfortable about it, he was certain her gaze missed absolutely nothing, but didn’t squirm, simply bore it unflinchingly. “Captain Jyhn and Anakin were a great help in finding you. The Captain said this sort of dazed period was common after Force suppression?”

“He’s correct,” Obi-Wan grimaced, slowly getting to his feet, lightsaber swinging comfortingly at his hip, “I’ve fought through it before but the longer it is put off the worse it is,” he continued, Tina waving off his explanation unconcernedly, “You were at the most risk and your job is done,” she informed him, “With this last batch, they’re singing like birds and now that we know they’re that manner of slaver, we have even more to pound them with.”

“The Captain offered to give you a lift to Coruscant, not a better rate to be found, honestly, and you trust them. I’d recommend taking him up on that offer, you could use the rest. You’ve been running on empty most of this mission,” she informed him, shepherding him towards the more lively areas of the central base, a town-structure on the outskirts of an agricultural center, central building housing their training center while they lived and worked in the buildings circling it.

Obi-Wan was torn, he could easily justify it with the cost logic, but he would know (and the Council would surely know) that he was doing this just because he was so _tired_ of being alone. Was this a test? Would he fail, if he took that offer? How could he, how could he not?

 _Live in the now, padawan_ , he heard that oft-repeated (ignored, exasperating oh what he would give to hear it one more time) advice and made his decision before he could second-guess himself, nodding to Tina and saying, “I think I will take him up on that. We’ve worked together before.”

“Good,” Tina nodded shortly, clearly worried about him.

“Obi-Wan!” a shout echoed over the other conversations in the area, Tina laughing slightly at the sight of Anakin scrambling over (under and across as well) any obstacles between them, bouncing around people in a manner clearly augmented by the Force to collide with Obi-Wan, sending him staggering back as the nine (ten now?) year old wrapped his arms around his waist. Obi-Wan didn’t hesitate as long, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair, “Hello again Anakin.”

“You with us this time? You were really out of it,” Anakin looked at him worriedly, “ _Fatres_ given me force-suppressor injections before so I know how to cope and how to come off them, but those cuffs are supposed to be so much worse!”

“They are,” Obi-Wan agreed, Anakin falling into step beside him, not brushing off the hand Obi-Wan kept on his shoulder, still somewhat incredulous that this unbelievable duo had actually shown up, “The injections, even kept up religiously, have weaker and stronger batches so you can usually feel it wearing off early and even accelerate it if you can internally use the Force efficiently. With the cuffs it’s sudden and total, nothing gradual about it, making it a very harsh transition both directions.”

“Doctor Verdi has given us the directions for one of the weaker cocktails,” Tina informed him, “And they’re leaving the cuffs with us, we’ll be training with them too.”

“Be careful with them,” Obi-Wan said worriedly, “And no children – the cocktail would probably be fine, but the cuffs – too often and you can do serious damage.”

Anakin nodded in agreement, informing the startled woman, “ _Fatre_ only did it to me because I asked and Verdi designed the cocktail for my body-weight specifically. Before puberty it can apparently cause serious damage to the ability to connect to the Force. Recoverable, but it’s ugly.”

“Your father knows a lot about this,” Tina asked warily, before hastily adding, “No offense.”

“None taken,” the man himself replied, walking up with a bag slung over his shoulder, “I was taken as a Force-suppressed slave in my youth, escaped halfway through puberty. It was ugly, like Anakin said. Now, Obi-Wan, are you coming with us? Because we do actually need to leave soon, I’m afraid. Have a few stops to make before taking you to Coruscant.”

“If Ranger Sarkin is done with me, all I need to do is collect my belongings and we can leave,” Obi-Wan replied honestly, Tina waving him off and saying, “Go, Knight Kenobi, I’ll send in my report at some point, take care of yourself and thanks for your help.”

“Come on Obi-Wan! Let’s get your stuff and find Verdi! You remember him right? Course you do, you remember everyone,” Anakin started babbling, tugging Obi-Wan after him and leaving Tina and Xanfrei with each other.

Sighing heavily, Tina said, “Watched his Master murdered and they send him out on solos right away, huh? I can believe it, idiots.”

“We’ve got a good month’s worth of jumps and routes before he’ll be back at Coruscant,” Xanfrei replied, “So with any luck we’ll be able to get through to him by then, and at the least get him to keep in touch.”

“Well, there are some pretty high-powered vengeful people being accused,” Tina said slowly, nodding as she thought it through, “So a month on a papered ship just following the trade might be just the thing to throw them off the trail. Of course, Jedi wouldn’t be worried but to keep us from being overly concerned, gracious concession to our worries is just polite. It’s not like it costs extra.”

“I do like the way you think, Ranger Sarkin,” Xan laughed, the blonde woman smirking at him, “Tina, please, Captain.”

“Then I insist you call me Xanfrei,” he replied gallantly, bowing with a flourish. She snorted and punched his shoulder, “Oh get out of here, you. Keep us posted and let us know when you’re on your way back to Coruscant itself.”

“As you wish,” he smiled, turning on his heel and heading to collect Verdi, who’d been working in the infirmary after getting dragged into some spars with his new best friends. To think, he had thought this hunt would be a real challenge – things had lined up very nicely, _Liy-tha_ be thanked.

Now to get through to the worryingly repressed Obi-Wan. He may not have realized it, Anakin thankfully helping cover for him so the Rangers didn’t get a first-row view into his mental state, but he had been broadcasting a disturbing amount of desperate loneliness and grief. Anakin had actually teared up at it, whispering to him that his Force presence was usually clear spring water and a crackling fire, while now it was just a sodden heat and salt. The Jedi was drowning, scrambling for something, _anything_ to latch onto and give him a purpose and he wasn’t finding it in these rapid-turn-around missions.

Xan had been an anchor before, and he could do it again. He just hoped Obi-Wan would let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, sorry for the long wait, hope it was even sort-of worth it. Also hope Obi-Wan's state of mind/being makes sense, for me I always felt like having Anakin to teach and guide, even though probably a bad idea from a healthy grieving standpoint, gave him something to work towards and anchor himself with, whereas here, without Anakin or anything like that, he's still scrambling for something or someone to provide a basis, an anchor.
> 
> Hope it seems reasonable.


	11. Chapter Eleven: Portentious Returns

“Welcome home, Knight Kenobi. The _Nimbus Djinn_ is clear to land,” the traffic operator’s voice was obscured by the hiss and crackle of interference from Coruscant’s high traffic, but he could still detect a warmth in the tone.

“Friend of yours?” Xan asked teasingly, looking over at the seven-year younger man in the co-pilot’s chair. Obi-Wan looked far better than he had at the beginning of the month, and the Force flowed through him smoother too – Anakin had been updating him on Obi-Wan’s signature and for the last week there had only been a hint of salt. It would be a long time before that hint was gone, if it ever left, but the calmly crackling blaze Anakin had been listening for had returned after the second week, the bubbling spring-water sliding across his tongue after three.

Xanfrei Jyhn, emergency Jedi therapist. Definitely not what he had signed on for, but in this case at least, no burden at all. After a few days of just getting Obi-Wan used to the flow of ship-life, he’d managed to get him back into an actual grieving process by gentle prompting for stories – once the Knight had started laughing over some anecdote he’d quickly dissolved into near hysterical sobs.

Verdi and Anakin, bless their souls, had quickly left the hydroponics room and not returned until the knight had exhausted himself and they’d been bearing tea. It was like they’d planned this entire intervention ahead of time!

“More like a friend of Garen’s,” Obi-Wan snorted, rolling his eyes, “He’s a Knight-Pilot and recruited the traffic operators at the temple into reporting on my arrivals – Bant blackmailed him into it, I’m sure.”

“These those crèche-mates of yours you were talking about?” Xan asked, Obi-Wan nodding, sitting back in the seat with a comfortable slump to his shoulders. That had taken a damn long time to get, it was only in the past few days he’d finally stopped retaining perfect posture everywhere he sat. It’d made Xan a lot more conscious of his own habitual slump at least.

“Good friends,” Xan commented.

“The best,” Obi-Wan agreed, a faint smile on his face. They sat in comfortable silence for a time, occasional echoes from further in the ship giving away Anakin’s bustling – he’d given strict orders for Obi-Wan to stay in the cockpit until they landed, because apparently he’d been preparing a surprise for the Knight and wanted to get it ready without him noticing.

Seeing as they’d been collecting speeder-bike parts for this entire month – and been through quite a few hassles to get the exact parts an extremely picky Anakin wanted – Xan highly doubted Obi-Wan didn’t know just what his ‘surprise’ was going to be. But at least he didn’t know what it looked like yet.

“So, Anakin’s probably going to threaten you with us tracking you down and kidnapping you if we don’t hear from you every three months or so,” Xan finally said, tucking into a shipping-class traffic lane behind a cruise-barge, “And his surprise is definitely going to have some sort of tracking device on it in case you take it somewhere and we need to find you or someone steals it. So if you need to go off-grid for a while, give us a heads-up, yeah? Don’t want to come crashing in on some diplomatic delicacy thinking we need to save your ass when we just make things worse.”

“I guessed as much,” Obi-Wan said dryly, shaking his head, “Anakin is… well. The masters would definitely say he had attachment problems.”

“Ha! We all do,” Xan chuckled, “We’re a clingy little bunch, I’m afraid.  Especially compared to a Jedi! You’re stuck with us.”

Obi-Wan just shook his head again, Xan letting a small smirk cross his features as he punched in the authorization code the temple operator had sent them before engaging the repulsors for landing. They’d had quite a few philosophical discussions and debates in the hydroponics-mess-lounge, even Verdi getting engaged in a fair number of them, what with his clinical background giving him something of an understanding of psychology. They’d at least managed to get Obi-Wan comfortable with the idea that yes, he was grieving his master, it _made sense_ and if anything, grieving _was_ being detached because wasn’t that the entire process of ‘letting things go’?

Really, Xan had a feeling a few of the Jedi Masters and Healers in particular would be dismayed by the rhetoric that was apparently the norm amongst the working Knights and Masters. Obi-Wan had come to them rather flexible already, who knew how badly stagnated the others were – he’d stuck to the rules but he understood that there were flaws, and that was probably due to his maverick of a Master and the absolutely ridiculous situations he’d gotten in with the man.

Xan was damn thankful there was no reason for Anakin to become a Jedi – they got into messes with their _Liy-tha_ prompted side-jobs, but not on the scale Kenobi did! At least it seemed to be unusual even with other Knights and Padawans, but still! Mostly-legit hauler was definitely going to be easier on Xan’s heart and hair.

He shuddered to think what would happen if his already trouble-magnet son ever went on some already potentially dangerous-at-the-outset mission or job with equally trouble-prone Obi-Wan at his side. Sending them off together to find some part for Anakin’s project had ended in busting a gambling ring via Obi-Wan clearing them out, saving children from a burning orphanage, finding enough evidence to arrest the landlord for insurance fraud and child endangerment and donating all the winnings to building a new facility for the orphans with enough left over for a perpetual trust towards safe and loving operating practices.

That had been one time. He’d never, ever made that mistake again, to Verdi’s hysterical laughter. Apparently, there was a curse along the lines of “may your children be _just like you_ ” and the doctor considered it karmic retribution for all the hassle Xan’s thirteen year old self had given him, much less the worry his childhood had caused his mother.

He found himself wistfully looking forward to the day when he could see that curse visit itself upon Anakin. His money was on fraternal twins – between a boy to follow in his own reckless footsteps and an equally mischievous girl to be an overprotective fool over, Anakin would get at least half of what was coming to him.

Verdi was betting some weird half-human hybrid genetics to give them all heart attacks, but the Corellian hadn’t been truly listening when Anakin had been waxing poetic about Padme Amidala – sure, it was all a long way down the line, but Xan had a feeling about those two, and half-human hybrid genomes didn’t play into it at all.

“Well, here we are, one drop off at the Jedi Temple, courtesy Djinn Spaceways, do honor us with your business again,” Xan gave a mocking half-bow in Obi-Wan’s direction, ship settling onto the floor and stilling as the engines and repulsors shut down. “Now let’s get you home.”

Obi-Wan nodded solemnly, posture straightening and a serenity wrapping around him much like his Jedi cloak. “My thanks for the company, and the flight,” he said, following Xan to the ramp, “And the rescue, of course.”

“Of course,” Xan flashed a grin at the younger man, clapping him on the shoulder as they came to the bow-hold and ramp where Anakin and Verdi were waiting. “Pleasure to have you aboard, Obi-Wan, you’re always welcome on my ship, you hear?”

“I hear and acknowledge,” he smiled, the two of them pausing at the top of the ramp, Anakin bouncing at the bottom where he was waiting with one heck of a gorgeous speeder-bike – gorgeous in that it looked like an average, beat up run of the mill swoop but was going to run like a dream with super-chargers. They exchanged a long look, Xan unable to really read Obi-Wan’s thoughtful gaze, but knowing that there was something in this exchange that the younger man still needed.

Finally, they exchanged shallow bows in their own styles – Xan’s hands pressed to his thighs, Obi-Wan’s tucked in his sleeves – and the Knight descended the ramp. Their farewells were complete.

Their see-you-laters were only beginning.

***===***pagebreak***===***

Mace Windu had been remarkably unsurprised to receive notice from the Antarian Rangers that Kenobi would be making his way back the long way, courtesy one Captain Xanfrei Jyhn. It seemed the Jinn-Kenobi combo was not yet done with the galaxy, even if the tradition had moved on a generation. He’d had to reassure a worried Bant Eerin that the two week delay would in all likelihood be good for Obi-Wan, and ensuring his reassurance was accurate was the main reason he’d asked to be alerted when Obi-Wan returned.

Seeing as Knight Muln had already gotten the traffic operators to keep an eye out for the other knight, he wasn’t adding to their responsibilities at all, really.

So here he was, watching the Consular-class freighter settle onto one of their landing platforms, ramp lowering and a speeder bike being shoved down it almost before the ramp connected. Skywalker-Jyhn, he was sure – the boy’s shielding was not quite unique, but definitely distinctive if you knew what to look for. A green-haired man strolled down next, with a casual balance common to good fighters – that would be the doctor first-mate with a record for underground fight rings. Fondness for mayhem aside, the man had apparently proved more than competent and helpful during Naboo’s recovery and was admirably loyal to his Captain and the child that flew with them from what Mace remembered.

He had managed to become good friends with Qui-Gon Jinn, and while his friend was one with the Force now, and had never truly met his son, he had no doubt that he’d approve, mostly-legal hauler or not. The least he could do was keep a friendly eye out for them – the fact that it allowed him to keep tabs on the most bothersome shatterpoint he’d ever come across was a bonus.

His breath nearly caught in his throat when he saw the exchange of bows – and not because of any surprise at the gesture, Jyhn was nothing if not respectful. No, but he could almost visibly _see_ the fractal prisms of sheer _possibility_ shift and diminish and multiply with that exchange before the shifts of potential ended and he felt things slip into place – like a warped timer, needle falling from catch to catch at unpredictable intervals. Things were stable for the moment, that there were set paths laid out before them, but at a point that would undoubtedly be unexpected they would shift again, and it hinged around this strange group.

Around _that_ off-center pair.

The Force was not yet done with Jinn-Kenobi – hadn’t he only just had that thought, ruefully amused at the paths they followed?

He had a feeling that it was _Jyhn_ -Kenobi they would need to watch.

Jyhn. Kenobi. Skywalker.

Force help them all.

***===***pagebreak***===***

“You made me a speeder bike?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, mouth twitching into a reluctant smile at Anakin’s sheer bounciness. “Anakin – I don’t even _like_ flying!”

“Oh bantha shit!” Anakin snorted, “Maybe you don’t love it as much as I do, but you like it just fine you lying liar who lies! Besides, this isn’t just _any_ speeder bike – sturdiest shell I could find, nice and light, plenty of power in there _and_ a shield generator with a back-up and holds for supplies – including a currently deactivated stasis unit if you have something that needs to be preserved. Pretty tiny one, and it eats power like mad so make sure you don’t leave the bike idling for long if you do it, the regens are good, but running the bike definitely helps the cyclers kick energy back into the system.”

“Well,” Obi-Wan said faintly, looking at the deceptively banged-up and average speeder with an impressed sort of awe, “I hope you wrote a manual.”

“Yep, got Verdi to help me write it, he’s better at technical descriptions still,” Anakin covered a yawn with his hand, Verdi presenting a data-chip with a wryly amused expression. That expression was all too common on the Corellian doctor’s face – Obi-Wan had a feeling that most of his thoughts ran along the lines of ‘why the hells did I ever agree to this?’

He’d had his own moments on the trip back, bawling his eyes out into the Captain’s shirt for the _third time_ being the most notable. Anakin asking far too pointed questions about power-cell use in lightsabers being a close second – he had a feeling that a few of his stories about lightsaber disaster woes had prompted that one though, so if his vague answers ( _Cautious, you must be_ , Yoda’s memory murmured in his mind) made some other Jedi’s lightsaber safer to use, less likely to blow up in-hand – well, the Council would forgive him.

“Then I look forward to reading it,” he said solemnly, putting the data-chip away carefully for future perusal. “Thank you for your hospitality, Doctor Nimbus, and for the lessons.”

“Pleasure to teach someone actually interested in some of my medical studies,” the humanoid replied, shaking his hand firmly and smirking, “We’ll have to have a spar again.”

Obi-Wan just shook his head, a smile growing on his face even as he felt another pang of grief that his Master had never gotten a chance to know these men. He had a feeling the three of them would have gotten on so very well – and the galaxy wouldn’t know what had hit it, with two of those mavericks and a Corellian with a positively Mando’a attitude towards violence on the loose. Add in Anakin and the whole matter would have been holo-worthy.

“All right Anakin,” he finally said, turning to the fair vibrating boy, holding his arms out with a sigh, “Thank you for the speeder,” he managed before he was nearly tackled to the floor, application of the Force the only thing that kept him upright, Anakin’s face buried in his tunic and arms near strangling him.

Carefully wrapping his arms around the not-yet-teen, he was surprised to find his shoulders shaking, “Anakin?” he murmured, “I’ve already promised Captain Xanfrei to contact you every three months unless a mission precludes it, and then to give you a head’s up.”

“Good,” the boy said, voice muffled. “ ‘cuz I was gonna make you promise that myself. Jerk. Eight months!”

Obi-Wan stifled a grin before returning his focus to the matter of Anakin’s tears, “Then what’s the matter?”

“I dunno,” Anakin sniffed, finally pulling back and offering him a weak, watery smile. “Just got – just got a weird feeling. Like I might not see you again.”

Obi-Wan felt a faint chill at the words, flashes of blasters, of a foreign face – no species he recognized – with a predatory air, of a ship split down the middle and of – was that Xanatos? – and then it was gone. There was a lot of danger in his future, he concluded, but he had known that already. And there was danger in Anakin’s as well – it was simply a part of their jobs.

“Force be with you, Anakin, and I _will_ see you again,” Obi-Wan said, trying to push his intent, his _belief,_ into that final phrase. Because there was danger, there was always danger, but he was a Jedi Knight, and while he knew far better than most that it made him in no way immortal, put him at even higher risk, he had an eternal and forever ally in the Force.

Even if it was only in one last dream-sending before his spirit merged with the Force to see his master again, he’d see Anakin at least once more.

“ _Liy-tha_ watch over you too, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, still subdued but not quite as distressed as before. Something in Obi-Wan’s tone had gotten through to him then. Good.

“Awesome,” Verdi said gruffly after a few moments staring at each other. “Can we get off this forsaken rock then? I can smell the politicians from here and it makes me want to hurl.”

“Wow Verdi, way to knock on the Jedi Temple.”

“Yeah yeah, place of enlightment and joy and whatever – still too close to the Senate Building. Come on, Obi-Wan needs to report. We’ll be seeing you Knight Kenobi, don’t be stupid in the mean time,” the doctor gave him a sardonic look before clapping Anakin on the shoulder and saying, “Go, go! Get on the blasted ship!”

Obi-Wan just laughed, giving a last wave to the two as they ascended the ramp, Captain Jyhn already long gone from the top and with the near immediate take-off, he’d been waiting in the cockpit. He didn’t bother watching the starship vanish into the mass of Coruscant traffic and probably quickly exit the atmosphere and then the system.

He had, as Verdi had said, a report to deliver.

After he got his new speeder bike squared away of course. Maybe Garen would like to take it out for a spin too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a horrible person - ugh, it's been over a year. A YEAR. Seriously sorry guys, and then this chapter doesn't even have anything really happen into it, just a bunch of teasing possibilities and a random speeder-bike that came out of nowhere.
> 
> Hopefully - HOPEFULLY - the next chapters won't take as long (like that plural? I like that plural a lot) but I'm a) going to work in a no internet zone for a few months and b) planning a huge reorganization of this series to incorporate/work better with/flow with the ideas and structures I've come up with over the course of a freaking YEAR of beating my head against the wall with this fic.
> 
> May take a while - hopefully not a year, egads! - but the story will NOT be abandoned. May update with all the speed of a sarlacc's digestive process, but not abandoned.


End file.
